Counting Down From 7-3-0
by ginger0826
Summary: Sequel to Make the Clock Reverse & part 2 of the Love, Give, Forgive Trilogy. Spuffy. S5 AU. Spike & Buffy know she's supposed to die against Glory. They need to keep Dawn & everyone else safe, including Buffy. What is in the Scoobies' control?
1. Chapter 1

_Description: Sequel to Make the Clock Reverse & part 2 of the Love, Give, Forgive Trilogy. Spuffy. S5 AU. Spike & Buffy know she's supposed to die against Glory. They need to keep Dawn & everyone else safe, including Buffy. What is in the Scoobies' control?_

 _All characters, quotes, plot points, references, etc. that are borrowed from source material belong to their original owners. The story as a whole is entirely my own, and just for the enjoyment of Buffyverse fans. Please excuse any author's liberties taken with source material. All of this is written for the fun and love of it._

 _This will be rated M for all that entails. Assume much sexiness, violence, strong language, and the like._

 _For right now, the plan is to post a chapter every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday (assuming the site hasn't gone wonky on a day I plan to post). Hopefully that'll give me enough time to get the whole shebang finished way in advance. I'm currently writing Chapter 16, and 35,000+ words in._

 _Thank you all for reading, and I really hope you enjoy this next installment!_

 _Love,_

 _Ginger_

Chapter 1

Buffy'd had a major case of the jitters all morning. She tossed her yummy sushi pajamas to the bathroom floor and slipped into the steaming hot shower. It stung her skin a little, but something about that calmed her. Buffy ran her fingers through her long hair, taking a deep breath. Spike was down in the kitchen, making coffee for her mom and helping Dawn get ready for school.

Spike, the Slayer of Slayers, was playing domestic with her mom and little sister. It'd been a weird few months.

Buffy shampooed and conditioned her hair on autopilot as she let her mind wander. It was the very beginning of summer. Adam was chopped into pretty little pieces, the Hellmouth was in quiet season, and Buffy had a few months away from college stress. She wondered if Spike might want to take a night walk on the beach one of these days. It was nice being able to think about beach walks with her boyfriend every once in a while. When she lathered her bodywash all over herself, Buffy remembered that this was the day Giles was going to have some big, heavy duty Slayer talk with her. Buffy didn't even want to know what it was about. She'd milked her post-Adam recovery for as long as she could; now it was time for the business of slayage.

Buffy heard the bathroom door creak open just when she finished washing all the way off. "Dawn, I'm in here! You should've brushed your teeth before—" The shower curtain pulled back. Spike was standing there in a pair of sweats Buffy had bought for him to wear in the mornings at her mom's house. They really needed to think about getting their own place. "Oh."

"Sorry," Spike pouted. He batted his eyelashes at her. "If you didn't want company..."

Buffy grabbed Spike by the upper arm, pulling him toward her and kissing him. She could feel him grinning against her lips. He shifted around a little as he kissed her. When Buffy pulled away, he was totally naked and stepped into the shower.

"Mom gone?" Buffy asked. She took a step back to let some of the water run on Spike.

Spike nodded. "Got the place to ourselves for a minute, love."

Buffy wrapped her fingers around one side of Spike's neck. She nibbled on the other side, over his sire mark. Spike clutched at her shoulders, gasping. When she swirled her tongue over his skin and pulled back, she was immediately spun around. Buffy squeaked, bracing herself against the shower wall so she didn't fall over. Spike massaged her shoulders and Buffy almost lost her balance anyway. All of her limbs relaxed and Buffy sighed.

"Why so tense, Slayer?" Spike whispered, kissing one of her shoulders as he leaned in behind her.

"Slayer duties with Giles today."

"You worry too much."

He continued kissing down her arm. Then his hands wandered south, grazing over her tummy. Spike kept one hand there, the other sliding between her legs. Buffy lifted on her toes. His fingers worked at her nub, and she had to press her hands even harder against the wall's tiles. The water suddenly felt cold against Buffy's warming skin, and her heart was racing. She felt it burning in her center, panting escaping her until it was too much. Spike latched his human teeth onto Buffy's neck. As he sucked on her skin, she let herself go. Her entire body went limp. Spike wrapped his arm around her waist to keep her upright.

"That help?" Spike kissed her cheek.

"Uhh-rng-uh."

"I'll take that as a yes."

xxxxx

"Buffy?" Spike called from the kitchen. His Slayer was upstairs playing with her hair or whatever valley girl thing she'd gotten up to as he put his blood in the microwave. Since Buffy'd been in hospital, Joyce had gone out and gotten him a mug of his own (one that said "Beware Mama Bear" on the side) and always had Rupert deliver some blood to be kept in the fridge. Buffy had been hinting that she wanted to get a place of their own when her classes started up again over at university, but Spike knew they'd need to be around this year, to take care of the Bit and Joyce. "Oi, Slayer!"

"For Pete's sake, what is it Spike?"

"You want me to cook ya somethin'?" He pulled the blood mug out, taking a sip as he waited for her response. He burned his tongue, winced, and placed it down on the counter.

Buffy walked into the kitchen, running her fingers through her hair. She'd thrown on some sweet cherry-printed dress. Spike grinned, using the minute before she spoke to just take in the sight of her, in her kitchen with him, pinning in some earrings. Buffy tilted her head at him. "What?"

Spike shook himself out of it. "Uh, food? You want any?"

"When is Giles coming over again?" Buffy headed over to the coffee maker, pouring herself a cup. She reached for the nearby sugar jar, pouring heaps of it in.

"Noon. We got a few hours yet, pet."

Buffy turned to face him again. He could tell by the mischievous look in her eyes that she was about to start pushing buttons. She sipped on her coffee. "Then how would you like to be my favorite vamp ever and make me some chocolate chip pancakes?"

"What?" Spike moved toward her, practiced and smooth movements. "I'm not your most favorite vampire in the world already?"

"Mm, I dunno," Buffy said, rolling her eyes.

"Rip out my unbeatin' heart, why don't you?" Spike grabbed Buffy's hips, pulling her toward him. She abandoned her mug next to the coffee maker.

"We don't have time for more of this, Spike. We've got to get ready... and..."

Spike grazed his fingers along her bare arms and her eyes shut as she took in a sharp breath. He wanted to enjoy this as long as possible. Buffy wasn't going to have the trouble she did before, when she'd been ripped out of heaven. He'd see to that. But Giles and Spike were about to tell her what might happen in this next year, the year that finally broke her, between Joyce's death and Dawn's constant danger. Spike wished they didn't have to tell her, but it was better to give her warning and try to prevent it than let it happen to spare a little bit of sadness now. Rupert had said it, and Spike knew he was right. Still, she was so unburdened right now, so bright and happy...

"And?" Spike poked the bear.

"And, um... There were arguments." Buffy pressed her hands against Spike's bare chest, watching her tan hands on his pale skin. "In my head." She pressed herself against him, wrapping her arms around Spike and taking him by surprise with a hug. "Somewhere," she muttered against his chest. Spike wrapped his arms around the tiny slayer, kissing her hair.

He heard throat-clearing from the doorway. They broke off the hug, checking the source of the noise. Dawn.

"Lurk much?" Spike demanded. He was suddenly grateful Buffy mandated him wearing pants about. Spike grabbed his blood mug and chugged the lukewarm liquid.

"It's not lurking if it's the kitchen. Not my fault William the Bloody is pawing at my sister in here," Dawn scoffed.

"What are you still doing home?" Buffy demanded, her cheeks gettin' redder the longer she spoke. "Mom was supposed to take you to school twenty minutes ago!"

Dawn popped an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest. "Mom wasn't taking me today."

"Then how—"

"Dawnie?"

Oh. This'd be bloody brilliant.

"Dawnie, where are—Good Godfrey Cambridge, Spike!" Xander smacked his hands over his eyes as he entered the kitchen. "What is it with vampires and not realizing that shirts are socially acceptable?" He shook out his whole body. "Make me want to poke my eyes out, why don't you?"

Spike choked on his blood, the image of Xander and his eye patch immediately springing to mind.

Buffy clapped him on the back. "Sweetie, you okay?"

Spike nodded, wiping his mouth.

"We're gonna be late," Dawn said. She started for the front door of the house.

"Right. Buffster, I'll see ya later?"

"Sure, Xand. Giles is coming by in a couple of hours. You want to do dinner tonight?"

"Are you cooking?" Harris asked, a flat-out look of disgust taking over his face.

"How about ordering pizza?"

Xander saluted her. "I'll come by after work."

When Harris left, Spike kissed Buffy on top of the head. He couldn't help the guilt swelling up in him, all the things he knew that could destroy her some day, the overwhelming fear that he couldn't help put off the Slayer death wish she'd have eventually, that he wasn't going to be clever enough, that just the knowledge he and Rupert were about to share would crush her.

"Kitten," Spike said, clearing his throat. "If you wanna get out the chocolate chips and whipped cream, I'll start those pancakes for you, hmm?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Giles sat in one of the armchairs in the Summers' living room, flipping through the notebook that Spike had given him. Waiting for someone to start talking was killing Buffy's manicure—she couldn't keep herself from chewing on her nails as she looked from Giles (dependable, unflappable, suddenly flappable Giles) to Spike, who wasn't making eye contact with her despite the fact that they sat in the other armchair, with Buffy curled in Spike's lap.

"Tea?"

Both the men looked up, grunting some kind of confusion at Buffy.

"Um, does anyone want tea?" Buffy clarified, brushing some hair behind her ear. "I could... You're both all British and... I mean, I think Mom keeps some..."

"After, perhaps," Giles said.

"Alright." Buffy took a deep breath and put on the big brave smile. "So what's the sitch?"

"Yes, well," Giles started, removing his glasses.

Glasses removal was a bad sign, only made worse by the fact that Spike suddenly decided to sling his arm around Buffy, stroking her hip.

Giles cleared his throat and tried again. "It seems, Buffy, that Spike has written quite a few useful things down since he was first sent here from, well, a heaven dimension, as far as we can tell. There is, of course, the matter of your..." He cleared his throat. Again. "Your demise, of course, and Willow's overuse of the magics, and Tara's... Tara's demise as well. But there are... Well, that is, there are other instances from this year that... Well, they might not even come to pass, of course, and..."

"Giles?" Buffy slipped off of Spike's lap. "Not to be rude, but is spitting it out happening any time in the near future?"

Giles flashed Buffy a tightly wound smile and nodded. "Yes. Quite right." He put his glasses back on, and Buffy stood a little easier. "It seems, if we have not sufficiently changed the fates already, that Joyce... Joyce may die this year."

Buffy felt all the air swiftly exit her lungs. Her sight went to tunnel vision the way it did when a big vamp smacked her hard enough against a crypt. "What?" Buffy twirled around, her eyes hard on Spike, who hung his head. "Is it the thing that gets me? Am I not enough to... to save my own mother?" She could barely think straight.

Spike shook his head. "Now, it's not like that, love. It's a brain thing. She gets..." Spike shared a look with her watcher, and neither of them said anything for a minute.

"She gets some kind of cancer," Giles whispered, sticking his nose back in the notebook. "Which she survives."

Spike nodded. "It's somethin' after... After she goes in and gets cut open. The docs bugger it up or..." Spike shrugged. He clasped his hands together and rested his elbows on his knees. If Buffy thought he was the type, she might've thought he was praying.

"If I'm reading this correctly..." Giles flipped a couple of pages forward. "It's something with her brain. Her vessels, maybe?"

"I don't know about any of that medical stuff," Spike whispered. "And it was also filtered through the Niblet. Slayer, you 'n I weren't exactly on good terms when... But after you made your little swan dive, Dawn and I spent most of the summer together." Spike glanced at Giles. "While the other Scoobies were hidin' from you and me so they could bring Buffy back, I wager. But Snack Size said somethin' about her mum's brain going wrong when you all weren't home. It was hard for her to even talk about." Spike lowered his head again, examining his hands. "Wasn't exactly gonna dig at her for details now, was I? I'm not completely heartless."

All three of them were silent for a moment. Buffy reached forward, stroking Spike's slicked-back platinum hair.

"I have all oracles who are in touch with the Watcher's Council investigating your mother's situation now," Giles finally said. Even though his voice was super quiet, it still startled Buffy and Spike. "As soon as they know anything, you will."

"And how, Rupes, did you manage to get them to jump through that hoop for you?"

Giles smirked at Buffy. "Might've mentioned a swift arse-kicking from the Slayer if they decided not to cooperate."

Spike's lips twitched as he stared up at Buffy, like he was about to laugh. "The gods themselves do tremble."

"That's not all the news we have, I'm afraid."

Spike sat up rigid straight, hands on his knees. "She hasn't—"

"She's not here yet, as far as I'm aware, no."

"She who?" Buffy settled back down, sitting on the arm of Spike's chair.

"Glory," Spike and Giles said at once.

Buffy pointed between them. "If you're going to do that this whole time, I'm going to wig." The fact was that the way the two of them were looking at her was freaking her out. All the joking in the world wasn't going to put her at ease for this one. She was still reeling from the news that her mom might get sick. Maybe they'd changed enough. Maybe...

Buffy's mind wandered to the Slayer dream she'd had in the hospital after they'd defeated Adam, to the conversation she'd had with her mother in the halls of Sunnydale High, the setting the night that Spike had attacked the school two, nearly three, years ago:

 _"We don't have a hall pass. Mr. Snyder will give you detention. I don't want you detained on my account. You deserve carnivals and white lace and tricks-or-treats."_ Detained on my account. The dream had been trying to tell Buffy something bad was coming for her mom, and she was just so caught up in everything else that she hadn't even noticed. And then... _"Different kind of beast. All these beasts, double faces, looking for Little Red Riding Hood. Did you take her to the mall? Lil' punnkin belly."_

"Buffy?" Spike said. He pressed a hand to her back. "You alright?"

Buffy blinked, hard. "Yeah. Sorry. Brain's doing overtime to figure all this stuff out. Time travel-y stuff makes thinking go kabloo-y."

Spike didn't look like he bought that excuse, but he didn't push.

"So who is this Glory person? Is she dangerous?"

"Spike, perhaps you should answer that for her. It may make more sense than if I attempt to translate your notes."

"Oh sorry, Watcher. Didn't realize I was gettin' graded on my scribbles."

"Guys," Buffy scolded. "Glory?"

"Yeah. Uh." Spike rubbed at the back of his head. "Her mighty highness Glorificus. Got a bunch of scabby minions with beady little eyes. She's the one who you fight, in the end." His voice lowered the longer he spoke, until Buffy could barely hear the last bit: "She's the bint who gets one good day."

"Okay. So this Glory person is the one who kills me. I'll have to kill her first this time 'round. No big. What kind of demon is she? Praying mantis? Giant mayor snake?" Buffy's eyes widened. "Oh God. Don't tell me I lost to a common vamp? That'd be more mortifying than the time I got my bangs cut too short."

"Not a demon," Spike muttered.

"Huh?"

"Glory isn't a demon, Buffy," Giles repeated. He closed the notebook and put it on the nearest table, then sat back. "She's a god."

"Oh."

Right a god.

Wait, what?

"A hell-god, specifically," Spike continued. "Wants to go home to her own dimension."

"Then why don't we help her?" Buffy stood up again, pacing. It really could be that simple, right? "She doesn't want to be here, we don't want her here. Let's help the girl out."

Giles shook his head. "There is only one way in which she can return home. She needs a key."

"So let's—"

"Slayer—" Spike got to his feet and yanked his box of cigarettes from his jeans pocket. When he pulled one out, he tucked it between his lips without lighting it. Buffy knew her mom had never even needed to ask Spike not to smoke in the house.

"Dawn is the key, Buffy," Giles said

"Dawn?"

"Is the key."

"I don't understand." Buffy tilted her head. "Did Dawn take the key?"

Giles opened the notebook again, then read one of Spike's passages directly. "'Bit is not the Slayer's real lil sis.'"

"Spike, what—"

"Don't look at me," Spike said, his cigarette flopping between his lips as he spoke. He rested his elbows on the mantle over the fireplace. "I don't know what in the bleedin' hell that part means, a'right?"

"'If you're wondering what the bleeding hell I mean,'" Giles continued to read from the notebook with a pointed look at Spike, "'some holy men turned Glory's key into a little girl that the Slayer'd protect. Glory can't get a hold of the key 'cause of some dimension-tearing whatsit. Glory wants the kid's blood to spill into her portal and go home. Once there's even a drop of the stuff, Dawn's gotta die to close the portal again. Buffy jumped instead.'"

Spike pulled the cigarette from his mouth and exhaled, an imitation of actually smoking that seemed like a habit to calm himself.

"So Dawn is some key that they decided..."

"To send to you as a lil sis, yeah," Spike said. He rubbed his forehead, eyes held shut. "The monks mucked about with our brains, made memories that weren't there a month ago."

"But... No." Buffy shook her head. The Slayer dream. The warnings that "she" was coming. The green light. Giles saying Buffy would have to protect her... "That's ridiculous. When our dad ditched us, Dawn cried for a week. I _remember_ that."

Spike shook his head. "Don't matter. She's your sis, however she's come to us. Her blood..."

Buffy felt fire take over her eyes as she stood as tall as her slight frame would let her. If either of the two men in her living room said the wrong thing right now, she would lay a smack-down like they'd never seen before.

"Her blood smells like Slayer blood, pet. They made her from you. You said, before..." Spike's eyes wandered to Giles, something primitive overtaking Spike's expression. Buffy had only ever seen that look when Spike was in the middle of a fight. Buffy wondered if, the last time around, Giles had said something he shouldn't have. "You said it was physical." Spike closed his eyes, his eyebrows lowering as he concentrated. 'She's me. The monks made her out of me.'"

"You also added, in your notes," Giles said, "'P.S. Ben = Glory.'"

Spike rubbed his hand over his face. "Yeah. Ben is Glory, Glory's Ben. Almost forgot about that maddening little diddy."

"Who is what now? Is this Ben guy connected to Glory?" Buffy asked.

"They're one in the same," Giles said.

Spike's head weaved back as he looked to Buffy's watcher. "The egghead remembers?"

"I may have cast a spell when I read this, before Dawn's arrival," Giles muttered. "To keep myself from falling victim to that particular spell."

"Good for you, Rupes." Spike propped the cigarette between his lips again.

"We will, of course, keep Dawn safe at all costs," Giles said. He opened his mouth to keep speaking, but Buffy held up her finger.

"Giles, I love you, but if you say there's anything else to add to those bombshells right now..."

"Actually," Giles said, rising from his seat, "I was going to see if either of you would like some tea. I know I could benefit from some right about now."

"How 'bout bourbon instead?" Spike suggested.

Giles smirked and nodded. "Even better." He left for the kitchen.

Buffy walked over to Spike, one hand on top of her head to keep it from exploding. What were they going to do? This was way too much for her to keep track of at once, so her mind broke it down to simple words: Mom in danger. Dawn in danger. Glory needs ass kicked.

Spike tossed his unlit cigarette onto the mantle behind him. "Love?" Spike approached her, resting his hands on her bare arms. "What do you want to do? Should we tell your Slayerettes?"

Buffy shook her head. "I don't want Dawn to know. She'd freak. And the others, they'd act weird around her. Plus, they're in more danger than they already are if they know. Let's try and get a handle on Glory first, maybe see if we can find that Ben guy. If we have to, at some point, we'll tell them. But for right now..." Spike nodded. "And my mom?"

"Joyce starts gettin' headaches before too long. When she does, we'll make her go to hospital, alright? Even if I gotta sic Tara and her sweet, timid little ways on her to do it. I promise, Slayer." Spike wrapped Buffy up in his arms, resting his chin on top of her head. Buffy took a deep breath, the scent of leather and nicotine soothing her jitters. "I am gonna do everything I can to keep you from hurtin'. I promise."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Tara replaced the wooden idol of some fertility goddess or another on the table in Joyce's art gallery, her movements slow and gentle as though she were dealing with a living child. Anya made a mark on her clipboard, her eyebrows all scrunched up as she stared at the thing. As the pair of them started talking about inventory and Eugene Boch, Spike walked into the back room, to do what he was here for: lifting heavy crates to the front of the store for the ladies to paw through and then return again. Slayer had patrol with the Slayerettes. Joyce had offered to do this with the good witch and the ex-demon, but Spike insisted she take some time with her youngest instead. He didn't want her exerting herself any more than she had to, had to find a way to help her. Spike plunked the crate down so hard behind Demon Gal that she yelped and Tara's hand flew to the part of her fuzzy peach sweater covering her heart.

"Sorry," Spike grumbled.

"What's wrong?" Tara asked. Never demanding or forceful, just genuinely curious.

"Yeah," Anya added, her voice chipper as she opened the crate and handed a jewelry box to Tara. "You've been walking around here like a damn ghost all night." The little witch's face twisted up, all uncomfortable and embarrassed. "Well he has," Anya muttered, returning to her checklist.

Spike couldn't tell them. Buffy didn't want him to, and that was what mattered. It was tearing him up inside, how withdrawn she'd gotten since he and Rupert had delivered the news to his poor girl. It was too much for her to deal with over the course of the whole year last time around; now she got to experience it all in a matter of twenty minutes. That sort of thing was bound to screw with her. Spike was oddly happy to know that she was with Harris and Wills tonight. They'd back her up, sure, but they'd been a comfort to her for years, too, and without the betrayal of having brought her back from the dead or sided with the wannabe baby slayers and kicked her out of her house, she could still find that comfort.

Spike decided to voice something that had been on his mind, on and off, that wasn't Buffy's to tell: "Anya?"

"Yeah, Spike?" Anya chewed on the end of her pencil, glaring at her list like she wanted to enact some kind of vengeance upon it.

"You were a demon."

The girls exchanged a look, then Anya answered: "Right. For over a thousand years. Why?"

"I just mean..." Spike rubbed at his nose, attempting to look like he couldn't care less. "You had to get paperwork done, right? So you could pass off as human?"

"Well, yes. D'Hoffryn knew someone in town. Damn it."

"What?" Spike asked Anya. He turned the garnet ring Buffy had given him before they fought Adam around his finger. Tara smirked at him, something entirely too knowing in her eye.

"I need to cross-check something in the back room. Hold on." Anya skittered toward the room Spike had just returned from. "Don't count anything without me."

Tara narrowed her eyes at Spike, waiting for him to speak. Even without her aura-reading magics, the girl was too damn clever.

"How 'bout you, pet?" Spike said. He slipped his ring off his finger and then back on again. "You don't happen to know a local Wicca priestess, do you?"

The sweet witch shook her head, suddenly occupying her attention with the goddess statue on the table. "Um, no. But, uh, if it's what you're looking for... Willow mentioned, once, something about going online to get certified to..." Tara raised an eyebrow. "Perform ceremonies, that kind of thing."

"Uh. Huh. And, uh, would that include..."

"Marriage?" Tara nodded without taking her attention from the statue.

"Could you...?"

"Does she know yet?" the Wicca asked. "Buffy, I mean."

"'Course not," Spike muttered, scuffing his boot on the floor. God, the soul had turned him into a ponce... Now he was lyin' to himself. He was always love's bitch, soul or no soul.

"Well, I suggest you scare the biggest ring out of the jeweler that you can," Anya suggested as she came back to the front of Joyce's gallery. Spike merely blinked at her. "What? Were you planning on actually purchasing one? That's not a very vampiric thing to do."

"Spike's different," Tara protested with a whisper. "Like he, um, doesn't eat us? Vampires are all about the eating people."

"I got a plan," Spike said. "Just..." He growled, throwing his head back. "No one warn the Slayer, yeah? Some bloody surprise it'd be if you lot asked her to marry me 'fore I did."

Spike needed to look through all his old junk. There were only very particular items he cared about taking with him when he and Dru would switch cities. This something was, along with the New York slayer's coat and Miss Edith, one of very few things that they'd managed to get out of Prague. Now it was just a matter of siftin' through Buffy's things and finding where he'd stashed it a few weeks back.

XXXXX

A week or so later, Spike kicked his feet up on the coffee table in the Summers' living room. He sunk in on his end of the couch, taking a sip of just-too-hot blood from his mug. Dawn had wanted to watch some boy band crap, but he'd vetoed that right quick. He might be a good boy for the Slayer, not snack on the locals and playing babysitter and all that, but there was a limit of what a man could tolerate. So, instead, Dawn rolled her eyes on Spike's choice: _Enter the Dragon_.

"How much longer is this thing anyway?" Dawn groaned. She rested her cheek on her hand.

"What? Would you rather be learnin' 'bout the Industrial Revolution, then?"

"Very nearly."

Spike tried not to stare at her. It was one of the reasons Buffy didn't want to tell the others... She didn't want to freak the kid sis out. Hell, last time the Scoobies found out and Dawn caught on not too long after, so Slayer had a point. But it was sodding insane. He had all these memories of Dawn—not just from before he was sent back, but from this new timeline.

Spike had to stop thinking when the word "timeline" came up. Time travel was almost as headache-inducing as the chip had been in its malfunctioning days. "Now, you see that?" Spike said, pointing at the TV screen. "The way he's breakin' the mirrors, giving himself more of an advantage? That's what you call resourceful." Spike remembered one of Buffy's lessons to the potentials, about following instincts and regaining control of a situation. His girl was always a master of the fight.

The Bit huffed. Spike had memories about her from this time around, too—last Christmas she'd been the one to bring him hot cocoa when they were unwrapping gifts; when the Gentlemen came to town, Buffy had to come check on her at her little friend Janice's place; Dawn had been with Joyce and Anya at Rupert's when Adam made the Slayerettes sick, and had begged Spike over the phone to go with them to beat up Captain Cardboard for luring Buffy into The Initiative. Spike remembered these things, even though he knew it was all the monks' meddling. Spike rubbed his nose. Didn't matter. It was all real enough. He was just overthinking things.

"Hello? Earth to Spike? God, no wonder you and Buffy are together. You're both such airheads."

Spike sat up, glaring at her. "Oi!"

"Finally, geez."

"What's so important you gotta go around insulting a fella, Niblet?"

"I asked what you were doing in Buffy's room... Is it your room, too, now?"

Spike offered a non-committal, one-shouldered shrug. Buffy knew, now, how likely it was Joyce'd be sick soon. They'd convinced her to get to hospital tonight when her head was hurting, but Buffy was still readying herself to stay on Revello Drive on a more permanent basis. Spike wasn't sure where that left him, exactly, except that he slept here every night for the past couple of months, and he kept a lot of his stuff in Buffy's room. It was the sort of thing that would freak his girl out if anyone brought it up before she realized he'd moved in.

"But you were, like, tearing the place apart last Wednesday before I went to school. Did you... lose something?" The Bit tilted her head, squinting over at him. Spike hoped she wasn't starting her nasty klepto habit already. He thought that'd only become an issue around the time she learned she was the key.

"I was lookin' for something, yeah. Don't see how it's any of your business." Spike chugged his blood, watching her out of the corner of his eye.

"Well, I mean..." Dawn pouted, thinking for a second. "I thought I could help. And besides, I should keep an eye on things like my sister's weirdo vampire boyfriend searching through her stuff."

"Don't trust me, do you?"

Spike would be lying if he said he wasn't a little hurt. Buffy and Harris had told him, at separate times, that when Dawn had first been blinked into existence they suspected she a bit of a crush on Spike, which he thought accounted for some of why she didn't hate him. But they'd done a lot of bonding, that summer that Buffy was gone. The others were off being arrogant wankers and working on trying to bring the Slayer back. It was Spike and Dawn who comforted each other, trying to pass the nights with movies or late chats when they expected Buffy to walk through the door, or (worse yet) when the BuffyBot would come back from a "patrol."

"No. No, I do." The girl's shoulders sank. "It's just... No one tells me anything. I'm just Buffy's kid sister." Dawn rolled her eyes. "Everyone thinks she's so special 'cause she's the Slayer. I could totally kick vampire ass if _I_ had a training room and a watcher and stuff."

"Right you are, Platelet." Spike tucked his now empty mug on the floor next to the couch. "You're a Summers woman. Got enough steel in ya to take down half the Hellmouth, slayer blood or no." And she had slayer blood; just not the whole package. It might make it easier to... God, Buffy was going to throw him through a wall if she ever found out. "How 'bout this? If you can keep your trap shut..." Dawn's eyes lit up, and she leaned so far forward on her seat's cushion she was about to tumble over. "Then I'll train you, a'right?"

She made a shrill girly noise that Spike took as a yes, especially when paired with her clapping hands.

"We'll start with this," Spike said, pointing at the TV.

"Bad kung-fu movies?"

"You wanna learn about fighting or not? Bruce Lee's a classic, alright? We're lucky enough that there's a marathon." And that Buffy wasn't back yet. She'd been gone a couple of hours now. What was taking her so long?

XXXXX

Buffy staked the vamp (turned some time around feathered bangs), no problem. She was walking through Restfield, twirling her stake along the way to keep her hands busy. She hadn't seen any fresh graves on her way in, but she thought she'd give it another once over just in case. Buffy thought it was taking a higher kill ratio lately for her to feel like she was making any kind of dent. She wasn't sure if she was wigging about Dawn and Glory or if it was a natural slayer thing or what. Eventually, she'd need to talk with Giles about it.

Buffy paused, grinning at the crypt closest to her... Spike's crypt. Checking over her shoulder, Buffy decided to slip in. Things were pretty much the same (the armchair, the little TV, the stone coffins). But none of Spike's little stuff—his books, his candles—was in there. That's when she noticed the slab over the tunnel entrance was shoved to the side. Buffy gripped her stake tighter, edging forward. Her demon senses were going off, but it was super dull. Before she could take a minute to figure that out, A huge figure emerged from the tunnel entrance, its skin all pale and saggy. Buffy raised her stake when the demon turned to her.

"Ah!" it shrieked. Apparently it'd been holding a bowl of popcorn, because the thing spilled all over Spike's floor, the plastic bowl flying into the nearest open coffin. Buffy lunged, but the demon held up its hands. "Slayer, wait!"

"Oh yeah, what? You're gonna tell me that you're not trying to hurt my boyfriend?" Had to be why the thing was here. Someone had a grudge, against her or Spike, and was trying to hurt Spike for it, only Spike hadn't spent a night here in... huh. The popcorn was a weird touch, though. "Just tell me... Do you work for Glory?"

"Who?" The demon shook its head, its ears flopping. "Look, Slayer, I wasn't trying to hurt Spike. We're poker buddies."

"Poker..." Buffy took a step back and lowered her stake. "At Willie's?"

The demon nodded hard, a goofy smile slapped on its face. He extended a hand. "Clem. Hi."

"Buffy," she responded. She shook his hand, waiting for some kind of a trick. But they let go without an issue. "So still I ask: What are you doing here? Spike's not around right now."

"Oh, I know. I'm watching the place for him. Make sure no one tries to take the place over. Or wreck it. Those Initiative guys? Totally insane."

Buffy couldn't help a giggle. "Putting it lightly. Look..." Buffy swiped some hair away from her face. "Just... Don't break anything, alright? You don't, like, eat local virgins or anything, do you?"

Clem grimaced, shaking his head. "I don't know that I could kill a pig if you asked me to, not to mention a person."

Buffy looked him over. She had her doubts, but Spike and Angel were part demon and they still managed to be decent, and Anya had been one, too, and now she was all normal shop girl. She'd have to double-check this guy's story with Spike when she got home. "I should probably get going."

"It was good meeting you. Spike never stops talking about you."

Buffy cracked a smile before turning and leaving Spike's crypt. A weird fog had settled over the cemetery. Buffy shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. Now some serious demon tinglies were going off, and it wasn't that Clem guy she'd just been talking to. Buffy started for the edge of the cemetery, hoping to find a spot that was less with the blocking her view.

"You're quite the impressive huntress. Such power."

Buffy spun around. Some tall pale guy with long dark hair was approaching her. God, she hated it when vamps were monster movie junkies. So many shades of lame. "Hey, it's just another day on the job." She waved toward herself with a quick swivel of her hips. "Care to step up for some overtime?"

"We're not going to fight," the vamp said. He had some kind of accent, but Buffy couldn't place it.

"Do you know what a slayer is?"

"Do you?"

Buffy licked her lips and crossed her arms over her chest, never losing track of her stake. "Who are you?"

"I apologize, Buffy Summers. I assumed you knew. I'm Dracula."

Buffy's jaw dropped, but then she couldn't help a huge grin, or the fact that her eyes got real wide like she was looking at Santa Claus. "Get out!"


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Look, not to cut this little meet-and-greet short," Buffy said, edging toward the vampire who might or might not have been a Dracula fanboy, "because Dracula knows me—wow. Really. Color me flattered." Dracula grinned and bowed his head. "But I've got a boyfriend waiting for me who's probably fighting to keep his nails from getting painted periwinkle right now, and he gets cranky if I'm gone too long. He worries."

"We have much yet to discuss."

Buffy pulled back her staking arm, sizing up the distance between them. "Mm, I'm more an action girl than a talk-y girl. Thanks, though!" She lunged, but when her stake came down it only hit mist; Drac had vanished. Buffy twirled and found tall, dark, and looming had manifested behind her. "Cheat much?"

"We are above the common squabbles." Dracula started advancing on her.

"Okay. Now you're making me grouchy." Buffy gripped her stake harder. She could feel her heart racing, mostly panic and adrenaline but also... God, being attracted to this guy was so not on the agenda right now. And, hello? She knew way better looking vamps than this guy. She had one waiting at home for her with her little sister. Buffy shook herself, trying to snap out of it.

"Is that what you are feeling, Buffy Summers?"

"Hey, Buffy!"

Buffy spun around and saw Xander, Willow, and Anya walking her way. She was pretty sure they couldn't see Drac, maybe on account of the fog still hanging around, or the stone pillar he stood next to. "Guys, get out of here."

"What is it, Buffster?" Xander sipped on his smoothie. "There an apocalypse tonight or something?"

Willow clasped her hands in front of her as the three of them stopped at Buffy's side. "Do you need me to witch-fu anythin' for ya, Buff?"

"Guys..."

"Leave us."

All of them turned to Drac.

"No, we're not going to 'leave you,'" Xander mocked, gesturing toward Dracula with his smoothie-holding hand. "And where did you get that—"

"Xander," Buffy hissed. This was just getting to be a worse and worse situation the longer it went on. She had to keep them safe, and her friends standing between her and Mr. Un-stakable was not the place for them to be. "I think that's—"

"Dracula." All of them turned their attention to Anya now. She started twirling one of her loose curls around her finger, ducking her head like a bashful fourteen-year-old. "Hi."

"You know him?" Xander demanded.

"We've crossed paths," she muttered, then batted her eyes at Dracula. "Not that I expect you remember me. I was just a silly young thing. 700 years old. I made this one guy fat as an ice cream truck, and you said..."

"That he was doomed forever," Dracula finished. Buffy, Willow, and Anya all sighed at his accent. Xander was working the panic eyes. "I remember you, Anyanka. Buffy Summers," he said, eyes locking Buffy's. She hadn't felt that swept up in the moment (and totally knocked senseless) since she was sixteen and still keeping a diary. It was unsettling—or, it would've been if she'd been able to think clearly. "This is not the time. I will see you soon." And, before Buffy could respond, Dracula turned into a bat and flew away.

All four of their mouths hung open. They looked at one another, rendered speechless for a good couple of minutes.

"Did I just fight Dracula?" Buffy gasped. Her head still felt all woozy.

"Yeah," Willow said. Her eyes were super distant. "And he was..."

"Dreamy?" Anya supplied. The other two girls made happy hums of agreement.

"Well, I say we go tell Giles," Xander said. He started for the entrance to the cemetery, the girls following on autopilot. "Something about this seems seriously messed up. And I don't like this whole 'see you soon' business. What's that about?" The girls mostly ignored Xander as he continued to rant. "And another thing! I've never been a fan of the broody, flirting with girls I know thing. Do you think Spike might know him? Maybe he'll know how to kick some Dracula ass, huh?"

XXXXX

When Buffy and the others arrived back at Revello Drive, Spike had been so caught up in explaining a particular kick to Dawn that he hadn't even heard the door open up. He had to flick the TV off and act like the reason he was all panicked was because Dawn was up past her bedtime, not that he'd been teaching the kid how to defend herself. The Slayer would've had a fit. Harris said something about calling the old man over to the place and wandered out to the kitchen as the girls found seats in the living room and Dawn rushed up to her room. Buffy took Dawn's spot on the couch, closer to Spike than her sister had been. Spike slung his arm around the Slayer's shoulders.

"You alright, Summers?" Spike asked. She was sitting on the edge of the couch cushion, and he could tell she had something setting the slayer gears in her head in motion. "Buffy?"

"Hmm?"

"What'sa matter, pet? Bad patrol?"

"Dracula!" Xander said, returning to the living room and waving his hands in the air with a wild gesturing.

"Pardon?" Spike's eyebrow raised.

"Stupid, pale, Sesame Street accent Dracula! For Pete's sake..." Xander shook his head, sitting with a violent thud on the floor in front of the fireplace.

"Wait just a bleeding minute," Spike said, retracting from Buffy and looking at each of the girls. Lovesick puppies. Drac and his soddin' thrall. He'd sniffed around Drusilla, trading secrets of that gypsy magic with her, and she hadn't exactly fought off his advances. "Drac's in town already?"

"Yep," Xander said, hands on his head as he exhaled slowly. "Real popular guy."

"Well, let's get rid of him, yeah?"

"You know how to beat him?" Xander said, lighting up.

"Wait just a minute!" Anya protested.

"Yeah, hold on," Buffy agreed. "I'm the Chosen One here!"

"Figure what worked on Adam'd work on Drac," Spike said, ignoring them. "With a few adjustments. Chop him, set the pieces on fire, bury him in cement laced with holy water. Might keep the bugger down."

"No!" Willow cried. The boys turned to her. "I... I mean, he's a legend. We can't just kill him. It's... um, rude?"

The front door opened, and Rupert came inside with the little witch in tow, a whole library's worth of books in the girl's arms. She smiled crookedly at each of them. Then Rupes adjusted his arm, and Spike could clearly see the broadsword he'd brought along as well.

"Careful with that!" Spike said, tensing in his seat.

"Xander said you all were in terrible danger." Giles looked from Spike to Harris and back again. "I thought some precautions were, well... warranted."

"It's no big, Giles," Buffy said. Spike could hear how tense her voice was, the secret code she was trying to work in there, one that only he and Giles were supposed to catch on to. She didn't want her watcher spilling the beans on Glory or Dawn before it'd become necessary. "Just a pain in the ass vampire." Spike didn't miss that Buffy's gaze jumped to him for a moment, or the smirk.

"A, uh..." Giles pinched the bridge of his nose, lifting his glasses as he did. "Xander, you told Tara and I to come quickly for a vampire?"

"Not just any vamp," Spike said. He clasped his hands together. "Dracula."

"Oh." Giles walked toward the fireplace, resting the sword on the mantle.

"Oh?" Tara said. "He just told you _the_ vampire is in Sunnydale..." The witch faced Spike. "No offense," she whispered. Spike shook his head and waved her on, even if that label had made him want to grumble and gripe. Priorities and all. She returned her attention to Giles. "And your response is 'Oh?' I know you're British but... but you didn't even go for a 'Dear Lord' or 'Oh my.'"

"Yes, well, Spike had warned me that Dracula might be around town shortly."

"Oh. Right. Um, future knowledge and all that." She barely laughed, floating toward Red's chair. She gently rested her stack of books on the floor and took a seat on the arm. Tara reached for Wills' hand, but she was ignored.

"Yeah," Spike said. "We were just talkin' strategies for killin' him."

"And," Buffy said, her voice sharp, "trying to go in smart instead of being all 'Oh, cement solves everything!'"

"Well, Buff, you're the one always bringing up the grenade launcher," Harris said. "For this scenario, that's also a very valid option. Hell, let's make it a triple date!"

"What is the issue?" Giles asked, propping his elbow on the mantle. He removed his glasses. "How did Buffy defeat him last time?"

"She didn't," Spike grumbled, avoiding the Slayer's gaze.

"Wait, what?" Harris demanded. He snapped to his feet.

"Dracula can't be killed like your average vampire," Anya volunteered. She ran her fingers along her skirt, the old wistful look in her eye. "Staking, holy water, crosses..." Demon Girl sighed. "Mere child's play against a dark creature of his caliber."

"And did you see his eyes?" Buffy flashed her wide smiled and Spike had to fight just to keep himself seated and not running off to chase after the poofter himself. "They were..."

"Penetrating?" Willow supplied.

Tara frowned down at her girl. "Pene..." Tara swallowed hard. "You thought his eyes were penetrating?"

"Well, in a... Uh, no! Of course not. He was all glare-y and big with the wanting to suck blood. Major, major turn-off." Her eyes shifted as she angled her face away from her honey.

Spike caught the newly brunette witch turning her attention to each of the other ladies in the room, studying them, but she said nothing.

"Spike had a good idea before," Xander said. Spike and Giles raised their eyebrows at him. Xander held his hands up in defeat. "I know, I know. I was shocked and appalled, too. But he figured an Adam sort of deal would work."

"Hmm." Giles chewed on the arm of his glasses. "And you said that you'd known him before, Spike? Before Sunnydale, I mean?"

"S'right," Spike said. He remembered when he and Rupes had been shouting at one another in the Summers home and Spike had let a few things slip, like the fact that Drac owed him eleven quid. "The Prince of Flashy is all about the gypsy magic tricks. Made sure that he buggered the rest of us vamps but let himself a few loopholes so he wouldn't get himself killed."

"Uh, sweetie?" Buffy blinked at Spike, lips tight and head tilted.

"Oh, uh, yeah," he said, sniffing. "Good for the Happy Meals on Legs to know what they were up against, of course. But he doesn't play by the rules, not ever. And Slayer..." Spike lowered his voice and hung his head, unable to say this next part and look her in the eye. "Buffy, love, if he wants to add you to his collection, we need to kill him or get him out of town as soon as possible." The corner of his mouth popped up. "I know you're a sucker for the dark and mysterious types who're occasionally bumpy in the forehead region, 'specially if they've got an accent."

"Spike." Buffy glanced at the others in the room, all suddenly preoccupied with their fingernails or the paintings on the walls. She pressed a little warm hand against his back. "Spike, you know I wouldn't..."

"Oh, I know that." Spike patted her knee. "I just mean that he's not your average disco-loving, I haven't seen a shower in thirty years vamp. Requires special care." 'Specially with the issue of the thrall to deal with.

"So what do you suggest?" Giles interrupted.

"Dunno. Nothin's ever worked. Clearly."

"Maybe we should sleep on it," Tara said. Spike had expected that response from any one of the ladies who'd been around Drac, but Tara hadn't set eyes on him, hadn't been victim to the twistin' of the mind Drac liked to bestow on pretty girls. The idea of twisted minds and Tara in the same sentence made Spike's gut clench.

"Tara," Xander said. "I don't think..."

"No, Tara's right," Demon Girl butted in. "After all, you don't beat a centuries-old vampire without a good night's sleep."

They all turned to Buffy. She shrugged and nodded. "It makes sense."

"If you think it's best, Buffy," Giles said, though he squinted over at Spike across the room.

Buffy stood, running her fingers through her long gold locks. "Spike, you coming up?"

"Sure," he said, getting up from the couch. Willow and Anya started for the front door and Buffy made her way to the second floor.

"Boys, could you help me with these books?" Tara said.

Willow paused and turned. "I'm sorry, baby. Did you want—"

"We've got it, Red, no problem."

"I'll be right out," Tara added. Anya shrugged and she and Wills left the house.

"I'm guessing the powerful witch needs no help with the lifting of heavy objects," Harris said. He stuck his hands in his pockets. "So what's the what?"

"Clearly, Dracula is more of a threat than the others let on," Giles whispered, checking over his shoulder to make sure the Slayer was still upstairs.

"Their auras were all..." The witch shook her head. "They were pink and fuzzy, like when they're, um, looking at us. But it was... wrong. Tinged with, like, this grayish stuff. It's like a hex or..."

"Thrall," the three men said at once.

"So what do we do?" she said.

"Find Drac. Take him out. Won't be hard. He'll be at a mansion somewhere 'round here." Spike just hoped Glory wasn't in town yet, or if she was that her mansion was far, far away from Dracula's. The very last thing they needed was to go searchin' for the vamp and find the insane hell god instead.

"Right." Giles grabbed his sword from the mantle. "I'll find the location of the nearest mansions. In the meantime, each of you should watch over each of them. There's no guarantee who he'll come after, but..."

"But smart money's on the Slayer," Spike grumbled. "Trust me, un-killable or no, I'll rip his sodding head off if he so much as blinks in her direction again."

Xander smiled sideways and nodded. "Never test the feelings of a brutal killer."

Tara chewed on her lip. "That's actually pretty good advice."

"Alright." Xander nodded. "Tomorrow, I say we make something up to tell the girls and go to whatever digs Giles finds and kick some dreamy vampire keister."

"Very well. We'll meet at my flat at sundown?"

Spike clapped the librarian on the shoulder. "It's a date."


	5. Chapter 5

_This chapter is dedicated to Rinso, Taste Like Special, RAGAnne, jackiemack916, Cloongarvin, and l1s44p. So great to see some reviewers return! (RAGAnne: I love Tara so, so much. Getting her more involved is one of my favorite parts.)_

 _Warning: Spuffy smut happens as the chapter goes on. There's only the slightest bitty bit of blood play, but nothing super duper intense. If it's not your thing, you can totally skim when you get there._

 _Chapter 6 will come out as planned on Saturday. And next week, Chapter 7 will have appearances from some familiar faces..._

Chapter 5

Buffy felt like something was totally off. She and Willow and Xander had gone to the Espresso Pump before checking out The Bronze and a couple of other places around town for any vamp-like activity. The most remarkable thing at The Bronze was these three slutty chicks hanging all over any guy who came near them. Buffy and the core Scoobies decided to skedaddle. Buffy found herself subconsciously looking around everywhere they went for "the great ponce," as Spike had been grumblingly calling him in his sleep, but she didn't see him anywhere, unless he was responsible for the weird fogginess around Sunnydale.

Spike said he was going to hang out with Clem, but Buffy was still a little shocked to find him not waiting in her bedroom on Revello Drive. Her mom (who had gotten the all clear from the hospital) was asleep down the hall, and so was Dawn. Buffy took off her patrol clothes, just slipping into a tank and some thin sweats and then tucking herself into bed. She'd dozed off at some point, but when she was stirred awake Buffy thought it was Spike. She grinned, glancing first at the door as she forced her eyes open.

"Spike?"

Her room was full of smoke. Buffy went into full-on panic mode, her heart racing as she sat up immediately. Surveying the whole room, she didn't find any evidence of fire. So it wasn't an old cigarette of Spike's or something. Oh God, what if Dawn or her mom— Buffy's legs were hanging over the side of the bed when he materialized. Not the vampire she was expecting, not the vampire she wanted here. Mr. Pointy was in her bedside table (after Spike griped about the possibility of accidental staking if she continued keeping it under her pillow like normal), but Buffy didn't move for it. Instead, she watched Dracula, waited.

"You are magnificent," Dracula said with a lilt.

"And you aren't my boyfriend," Buffy said back.

"Such loyalty to William the Bloody. His last paramour did not display devotion to him like this."

"Dru." That was why Spike was all with the "Let's get the grenade launcher." Part of it might've been about Buffy, but Spike wasn't one to let go of grudges easy, either. Especially when those grudges had to do with the girl he loved. Dracula didn't even seem to hear what Buffy had said. He was admiring her and licking his fangs, his gaze somewhere on the spectrum between wanting to jump her bones and wanting to suck her blood. Buffy mustered all of her willpower, but it wasn't enough to make her move.

"I have searched the world over for you." Dracula said as he took a seat next to Buffy on the bed. "I have yearned for you. For a creature whose darkness rivals my own."

Buffy squirmed. _Okay. You're the Slayer. Now slay. Go. Just move your... arm... and... damn it. If I've got laser vision, now's a good time for that to kick in_. She glared at him, her jaw hard. "I'm not a thing of darkness. I'm one of the good guys. In case you missed the memo."

"You think you know ... what you are." Dracula stroked her hair away from her neck. "What's to come. You haven't even begun." He was echoing words she'd heard before, but she couldn't place them. Dracula bit his lip. "You have been tasted."

Buffy shivered as Drac's fingers teased the scar of Angel's bite mark, laid over the Master's. She tried to concentrate on anything but the toe-curling, gasp-making feeling of Angel draining her. Something about it felt... complete. Like that was how the Slayer and the vampire fit together. She'd never confessed that to anyone, even Angel. She didn't even let herself think about it, pushed it to the back of her mind even when Spike was making her feel amazing and she wanted to ask him...

"He was..." Buffy wheezed.

Spike. She had to focus on Spike. Dracula was looking at her with all the passion that Parker had. Spike loved her, would die for her, had died for her. She knew what love looked like, had seen it from Spike, and, in broody star-crossed style, from Angel. This was not it.

"Unworthy." Dracula leaned in, nuzzling her neck. "He let you go."

XXXXX

Spike, Tara, Xander, and Giles had snuck away from the others to hunt Drac down. Spike had made sure they were armed to the teeth: he took Giles' sword, Tara some holy water and a few witchy do-dads, Harris a sledgehammer and stake, and Rupert a crossbow. But they'd searched all along Crawford Street, which was the only place where Rupert and Spike could suss out that Drac might take over. There wasn't even fog around. They even checked the three closest cemeteries and the docks and turned up with a whole lot of nothin'. So the lot of them had to go home empty-handed.

Spike stopped outside of Joyce's room first, and listened. He could hear her and Dawn's heartbeats, nice and steady. Adjusting the sword in his hand, he headed then for Buffy's room. He'd been disappointed they hadn't found anything wrong with Joyce at the hospital, but he supposed there was nothing to be found yet. They'd just have to pester the lady 'til it proved useful to do so. Spike stopped the breaths that had become habit over the years. Didn't want to wake the Slayer. He opened the door and laid the sword on top of her dresser. When he turned back to her bed, he expected to see Buffy laying there under the covers. Instead...

Drac was sitting in her bed, had his fangs in the Slayer's neck. Spike roared, vamping before his next blink. He lunged but Dracula misted, so Spike ended up crashing into Buffy. Spike stood and spun, searching the room for him. Then Dracula manifested in front of the cracked window. Buffy, still sitting on the bed, shook herself. Blood was dripping down her neck, and she seemed to be coming to. Spike grabbed the sword from the top of Buffy's dresser, waving it in Drac's direction.

"Enough of this, William the Bloody," Dracula said. Spike was going to enjoy cutting him to pieces and rendering those pieces to ash. "Your Slayer is not immune to my charms. There was a time when you would have partaken of her blood."

"Yeah, well, there was also a time when I thought taupe was my color. You live 'n you learn. Speaking of..." Spike took a step toward him, pointy end of the sword leading the way.

"Stop," Buffy said.

Spike turned to her, mouth hanging open. If Dracula still had her in a thrall, he was going to have to fight the both of them, without hurting her. Bloody wonderful. Buffy moved toward Dracula, her steps slow. Dracula leered down at her, like she was some sort of cake in a bakery window. Spike, still in game face, growled. Then, without warning, Buffy decked Drac with an upper-cut, sending him crashing through her bedroom window. Buffy and Spike looked through the new hole in the wall. Drac transformed into a bat, fluttering up to the second floor again.

"Let's be clear," Buffy said, crossing her arms over her chest. "This is my town. You're leaving now. Prince of Darkness crap or no."

"Or you could not leave," Spike offered. He covertly reached into the pocket of his jeans, yanking out his lighter and flickin' it open as he spoke. "And my girl 'n I'll have us a grand ol' time killin' you in every possible way we can think up. Between a couple hundred years experience and a clever, resourceful slayer like her..." Spike licked his fangs, glancing at Buffy and igniting his lighter. "I don't like your odds."

The bat Dracula had turned into squeaked, then flew up into the sky.

"Think he's gone?" Buffy asked.

Spike stuck his head out what used to be a window. He pitched the still-lit lighter up at the bat. A wing caught flame. The lighter clunked onto the roof and the bat Drac shrieked, in clear agnoizin' pain, but still lop-sidedly fluttered off. "Think, for his sake, he better be," Spike said, taking more than a little joy in having set the bugger ablaze. "But if there's anything that bastard's good at, it's survivin'." He turned to the left, saw Joyce's light on. Spike immediately forced back his demon face. "Uh-oh." He pulled back inside, opening the slayer's closet and tossing the sword into it before slamming the door shut again.

"Uh-oh?" Buffy hissed. "What uh—" Joyce opened Buffy's door, wielding a heavy-looking urn. Buffy rushed to cover her neck up with her hair. "Oh. Sorry, Mom. Did we wake you?" She was wincing, preparing herself for the inevitable.

"Buffy Anne Summers, just what in the _hell_ is going on in here?"

"I, um, Spike? Can you help on this?"

"Joyce, it was..." Spike scratched the back of his head. "Look, Dracula broke in, alright? Slayer had to kick his ass out of here. Keep you and the Bit safe, yeah?"

"Excuse me." Joyce closed her eyes and shook her head. "Did you just say _Dracula_?"

"Kinda, yeah?" Buffy said.

Dawn walked up behind Joyce, holding a big wooden cross she'd likely stolen from Buffy's room. Spike fought back the urge to get away from the thing. Dawn checked the room out, immediately finding the hole in the wall. She giggled. "Oh man. You are _so_ grounded."

"Mom, I'll pay to fix it, alright? Can we just do this in the morning?"

Joyce took a heavy breath. Spike couldn't shake the fear that he was staring at a dead woman walking, like he had with his own mum. "And you're sure you're alright?"

"Absolutely, Mom." Buffy flashed one of those too-wide smiles, a lot like the BuffyBot, the smile she gave the others when she wanted them to let her alone.

"Fine, Buffy. But you _will_ pay for it."

"I'll help," Spike mumbled. Had some poker money he could call in. Didn't want too heavy a financial burden on the Slayer. Spike remembered how heartless her friends had been about pitching in on finances when she'd come back from the dead.

"Come on, punkin belly," Joyce said, turning to the hall. "How about I make you some hot cocoa and we'll go back to bed, hmm?"

Spike made it to the bedroom door in three long strides, shutting it behind them. Then he turned back to his slayer, who was holding her neck. He made his way over to her, brushing her hair over her shoulder. "How are you really, Goldilocks? He got a big chunk outta you, dinn't he?" He rubbed her shoulder, staring at the two puncture holes, still spilling Slayer blood.

"Are you mad at me?"

"Mad at you, pet?"

"Yeah, with the whole letting Dracula drink my... It was like I couldn't control myself." Buffy huffed, looking to her feet. "And that is the lamest excuses of all excuses."

"I don't blame you." Spike fit a finger under her chin, lifting her face. "Trust me, only way any woman lets him touch 'em is that gypsy crap. I promise, I'm not cross, alright? I'm just glad you're safe. Had me scared for a minute there."

Her eyes widened as she looked up at him, mouth slightly parted. "Spike, do you think..."

Spike could hear her heartbeat going a million miles a minute. "What do you need, love?"

"Can you take care of..." She gestured to her neck, then tilted her head to expose the bite to him at a better angle.

Spike never could have imagined this level of trust from her. He clasped the unwounded side of her neck, bringing his lips down to the bite. Spike kissed her soft skin, twice, before running his tongue first to sweep up any blood there, then over the bite itself. She moaned, digging her nails into one of his shoulders. He kissed the wound once more, for good measure. Spike pulled away, trying to read her face. Before he got a real chance, he was being spun and then flung, falling back on her bed. Then Buffy was on top of him, kissing him. Her lips were tender, passionate, her small hands flat against his chest.

Spike shrugged off his duster, laying on top of it. He was panting, the little bit of Slayer blood in his system giving him a buzz. Buffy tugged her tank top over her head, all bare bronze flesh in the moonlight. Spike's breath stilled as he just took in the sight of her. She grinded against him, watching him watching her. Spike sat up, clawing to get his shirt over his head. He felt Buffy moving about, but he was momentarily blinded. When he tossed the black tee to the floor, the Slayer was completely naked on top of him.

"Christ, love," Spike gasped. His hands gripped at her hips as he admired her for a minue. Their lips crashed together again. His hands migrated north, fingers weaving in her long silky hair. She worked at his belt, getting the thing undone and unbuttoning his pants. They worked together, blindly, to get his jeans to the floor, lips never parting until that deed was done. Finally, Buffy did pull away, gasping for air. Spike cradled her cheek in his hand.

"I was so freaked," Buffy confessed. She kissed his palm, eyes shining at him. "I just kept thinking of you, but I couldn't move and... I never want to feel helpless like that."

"You're never helpless, kitten," Spike whispered. He brought her fingers to his lips, kissing them. "Not once in your life. You would've figured it out, one way or another. And I'm always here, fightin' in your corner, alright?"

Buffy stroked his gelled platinum hair. "Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

Spike wrapped the Slayer up in his arms. "Love you, Buffy."

Buffy's hand rested along the back of his head. He adjusted to try and look at her, but his lips brushed the bite again and she whimpered, shivering against him. Spike paused. If he was confusing her signals, he was likely to be in a helluva a lot of pain in a very vulnerable place, but he never was one for considering consequences for too long. He pressed a hard kiss to the fresh bite and Buffy held him there. She slid herself onto his cock, moving up and down slowly.

Spike hissed, then latched onto the still tender bite with his human teeth, sucking the skin hard. Beads of blood, just enough for him to taste, broke through her skin. She spasmed, burying her mouth against the crook of Spike's neck to suppress the moan escaping her. The combination of sensations, of knowing she was satisfied, of having his Slayer's blood in his system, was enough for Spike to release inside of her. The two of them grasped at each other, only separating enough to look one another in the eye. Her gaze was wide and wild but clear, too, connected, there with him the way she'd never been in those months after she'd been torn out of heaven.


	6. Chapter 6

_Dedicated to Rinso, Taste Like Special, RAGAnne, and jackiemack916 for the reviews._

 _I decided to change stuff up a bit. So those returning characters who I promised for next Tuesday? They made it into this chapter instead. As a result, this one is a bit long compared to the usual ones I post. It just seemed to make more sense like this. Some time next week there may or may not be some developing tidbits on the Big Bad front..._

 _See you Tuesday!_

Chapter 6

Buffy was so over the school thing. She wasn't really sure why she'd gone to college, other than the fact that her mother would've killed her if she didn't. Since she didn't much feel like playing waitress in LA again, she instead suffered through World History. Dawn was supposed to meet her at the magic shop after they were both done with school so they could walk home together. Buffy wasn't big on letting her sister out around town on her own with the hell god on the loose, and since her super strength-having vampire boyfriend was sun allergic, Buffy was playing covert bodyguard.

Giles and Anya were arguing in front of one of the display shelves when Buffy got in there. Buffy slipped past them, narrowly avoiding having to pick a side. She headed for the training room, where she figured Dawn was hanging out and (optimistically) doing homework. When she walked in, a crossbow spring released and an arrow hit the scarecrow dummy set up near the wall.

"No, see? Arm shot's not gonna do the trick there, Platelet. Gotta aim a bit to the left with—" Spike adjusted where her sister had the crossbow pointed.

Buffy cleared her throat. She stood with her feet apart and her arms crossed over her chest as the pair of them turned to her. Then she pulled the raised eyebrow of "Just what the hell are you doing?" that she had so easily perfected since being Spike's girlfriend.

"Uh, Slayer."

"Buffy! I thought you had class 'til four," Dawn said. She not-so-swiftly held the crossbow behind her.

"Three." Buffy let the word linger a minute as her boyfriend and her little sister exchanged guilty, panicked expressions. "Anyone want to try and explain this one to me, or should I just get Giles in here for a big lecture?"

"Oh, please!" Dawn griped. "You weren't that much older than me when you started staking vampires."

"Bit..."

"Well it's true."

"Yes, but I'm the Chosen One, Dawn. If we need an expert in stealing someone's sister's jewelry, we'll give you a call." Buffy tightened her lips as she shifted her attention to Spike. "And what're you doing out of the house this time of day?"

" _Passions_ was over. It was go stir-crazy or come through the tunnels to hang out here. Take your bloody pick."

"She's too young to be doing this kind of stuff. I don't want her getting hurt." Buffy let her glare do most of the talking for her. If Dawn did one thing wrong, she could've killed herself or Spike. Not to mention the fact that her sister had a stubborn and reckless streak that meant she might try sneaking out at night to roam around cemeteries, especially if she thought that she was trained enough to be up to the task. If they wanted to just hand Dawn over on a silver platter, this was a good flippin' start.

"She's the Slayers' kid sis," Spike said with an _I'm not saying everything out loud_ glare of his own going. "Baddies are bound to pounce her at one point or another. Last thing the girl needs is to be helpless."

Buffy thought back to the other night, when she'd told Spike that very fear about herself. Of course she didn't want Dawn helpless. Hell, she also didn't want Dawn in imminent danger that was going to blindside them. The Hellmouth didn't care about want; The Hellmouth cared about blood. "Whatever. We're going home. You've got algebra to do."

Buffy spun on her heel and could hear the other two dragging their feet behind her. They probably didn't really anticipate that she was eavesdropping, or that she could on account of Slayer hearing. They seemed too wrapped up in their private conversation to care.

"For what it's worth," Dawn whispered to him, "I totally agree with you. What am I supposed to do if Drac breaks in? Shriek for Buffy?"

"Yeah, Bit. I know. Just better hope your mum don't find out." Spike's voice was loud enough that he probably wanted Buffy to hear this part. "You'll get grounded. _I'll_ get thrashed."

"You're seriously scared of our mom? She has Buffy kill spiders for her half the time."

"Yeah, I am."

"Wuss."

"Watch it."

Buffy couldn't help a smirk as she rolled her eyes and opened the front door to the shop. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Spike pick up an old scratchy-looking blanket from a nearby chair.

XXXXX

Buffy bought the hugest cookie the Espresso Pump had behind the counter. It was made to look like a pumpkin and had icing all globed on top. (Her favorite kind of sugar came with more sugar.) But she'd only taken one little nibble of it. Now she sat at the table she shared with Wills and Tara, pouting down at the pretty much untouched cookie. She was getting plagued by big thoughts. Did Spike have the right idea about protecting Dawn by training her? Extra danger factor aside, Buffy didn't want her baby sister to see the things she had, for as long as that was possible, anyway. But Spike had that whole future knowledge thing going on, plus being super perceptive on stuff and...

"Did that cookie insult your shoes?"

"Huh?" Buffy blinked up at Willow, who was flashing her post-joke grin. "Sorry. Huh?"

"Geez. Maybe you need a cappuccino with that, Buff," Willow said. She took a sip of her latte, glancing at the menu hanging behind the counter behind Buffy. "Ooh, they have a special until 6 for UC Sunnydale students!"

"What's wrong?" Tara tilted her head. Buffy shivered; she couldn't help it. Sometimes Tara looked at her like she could see right through her. Honestly? Buffy was a fan of the whole sweet mothering thing. Plus, no lectures like with her mom or Giles. Tara was totally non-judgey. "Do you have some slayer-related achies or something?"

"Oh, no. It's not that. It's just..." Buffy sighed. She broke off another piece of cookie, but she didn't eat it. "I'm worried about Dawn."

"Aww. Cutting class?" Willow asked.

"No. Wait." Buffy lowered her eyebrows. "What've you heard?"

Willow and Tara exchanged a look, but Wills shrugged. "I'm just going off of our high school experience. You know, skip fourth period to chase demon hunting puppets. Skip seventh to look up records from the morgue."

"Right."

"Why're you worried anyway?" Willow gave one of those tight, I-totally-have-it-all-figured-out sideways smirks. "Dawnie's got the Slayer as her big sister. She's pretty much untouchable."

"Yeah. I just... I caught Spike _training_ her. There was a crossbow involved. At The Magic Box. She can look at something and break it. What if she broke something?"

"Like your boyfriend?" Tara brought her tea to her lips, gaze never wavering from Buffy.

"Like my boyfriend." Buffy finally ate the newly broken piece of cookie. "Or herself. Or Giles' stuff. You know Anya would throw a _fit_." The witches laughed. Buffy licked orange frosting from her lips. "And it just scares me, ya know? She's only fourteen."

Tara and Willow responded at the same time:

"I understand."

"I dunno."

The pair of them looked at each other.

"What do... What do you mean you don't know?" Tara winced like she was expecting to get yelled at. "Dawnie could get hurt, or hurt someone else, with pointy objects and stuff. It's dangerous."

"But we weren't much older than her when we got in on the Slayage," Wills said. "And besides, remember when Angelus grabbed her at the high school? Or when Faith tried to kill her back when she was working for the mayor?"

"Or the time with those Parasite Demons?" Tara offered. All three of them shuddered, Willow even adding in a "yeeegh."

"Yeah, she _has_ managed to be about as much of a hostage magnet as Xander is a demon magnet."

"Hey!" Willow scowled, pointing at Buffy. "What's our rule about the M word?"

"At the end of the day," Tara whispered, "what matters is keeping Dawnie safe." She stirred her tea, watching the swirls the surface of the liquid made.

Tara was right. So was Wills. Whether Buffy wanted Dawn to be a part of this or not, she was now. The monks had sent Dawn to her for protection. And damned if she wouldn't do just that. The soul-ed vamp boyfriend with tons of future knowledge they could take advantage of? That was just a Buffy Summers bonus. She bit into her cookie, making her yummy hum when she really tasted the icing for the first time.

XXXXX

Spike had torn apart every last sodding box of baubles in Buffy's room. He'd gone through the one box of stuff he'd brought over from his crypt (which the Slayer had suggested after a night of patrolling and planning to return to Revello Drive). It wasn't among the button-downs, tees, records, and couple of old books. He was about ready to lose his mind and start talkin' about pixies and naming the stars and what all.

When the door to Buffy's room opened on its own, Spike vamped by instinct.

"Geez, jumpy much?" Dawn teased, her lips trembling with a not-quite laugh. "What, are you looking in her panty drawer? 'Cause gross."

"Would you keep it down, Snack Size?" Spike growled. He rolled his eyes and forced back his lumpies. "What're you breakin' into Buffy's room for, anyhow?"

"Uh, I wasn't? I heard rummaging and figured Drac might be back." She raised an eyebrow, playing it cool. Spike decided she was definitely spending too much time with him. "What _are_ you doing?" She scanned the room, things tossed all over. It was only slightly worse for the wear than the way Buffy left it normally, but the Bit was quick on the draw. "Looking for something?" she wagered.

"Maybe." Spike reached into the pocket of his duster, pulling out a cigarette and propping it between his lips as he spoke. "What's it matter to you?"

"Maybe I can help. I've been finding her diary hiding places for years now. Gotten it down to four minutes or less!" Her nose curled. "Uh, don't tell Buffy that?"

"Fine." Spike laid the unlit cigarette on the Slayer's bedside table. "It's an old thing o' mine. Doesn't look like much, but it's older 'n I am. Means..." He averted his eyes. "Means a lot to me. Brought it with my stuff, but..."

"Hmm." Dawn chewed on her thumbnail. "I'm going to guess it's not a purple halter top or a pair of cat eye Ralph Lauren sunglasses, huh?"

Spike tilted his head. "'fraid not. Was that the thing she was lookin' for the other day?"

"Wait!" Dawn bounced on her toes. "I think I've got it! Be right back." She raced away from the room. Spike was half convinced it was all an act to divert the attention from the fact that she was apparently built by the monks with sticky fingers, but she actually returned. "Is this it?" Dawn held out a simple gold band with a sizable pearl at its center.

His mother's ring.

XXXXX

"I mean, I feel like I'm going crazy!" Buffy waved her stake in the air as she spoke. She and Spike exited the graveyard. "Do you think I'm going crazy? I bet you and Giles are all 'Oh, that Slayer, she's three sugar cubes short of a cup of tea!' or however you British guys put that."

"You're not crazy, love." Spike's left hand rested in his pocket. Buffy could've sworn he was fidgeting with something, but he didn't give her the chance to ask about it. "Although you're giving a good go at acting it about now, I'll give you that. No one's gonna attack a psychotic slayer."

"Faith still got herself in plenty of scuffles," Buffy grumbled.

"To be fair, half of those were with you." Spike smirked, eyeing her up without exactly turning to face her. He'd taken his hand out of his pocket, but it was clenched into a fist.

Buffy looked around, trying to see if he noticed a baddie she hadn't. Unless she was majorly failing her Slay-Gal pop quiz, nothing. "Uh, what's that?" She pointed to his hand as they continued at a seriously brisk pace.

Spike jammed his hand right back into his duster pocket. "You wanna focus or have a blonde moment there, Summers?"

"Huh?"

"The feelin' crazy? Maybe you have gone completely off your bird..."

"Why, of all the vampires in all the land, did I pick the biggest jerk of them all to date?"

Buffy forced back a laugh. In one huge swoop of black leather, Spike stood in front of her. She stopped just short of bumping into him. He was scowling down at her, and Buffy was half surprised he didn't slip into game face. But then his expression softened and he leaned forward, pressing a long but chaste kiss to her lips. When he pulled back, Buffy bumped her nose against his, fighting her grin. His right hand clasped her left and they continued the walk home. Buffy slipped her stake into the inside pocket of her jacket.

"What I meant," she said, picking up the thing that kicked off this whole conversation, "is that I'm having wig-worthy echoes all over the place. I can't tell what's just your average ordinary déjà vu, what's from the memory spell where I was walking around in your brain, or what's from cryptic Slayer dream symbolism."

Spike tilted his head. "Like what?"

Buffy listened, for a moment, to the steady way their feet fell on the sidewalk—his heavy steps in the boots next to her light steps in high-heeled boots. The moon was super pretty. She rested her head on Spike's shoulder for a few seconds, sighing.

"Like this thing Dracula said. I think... I think my mom said it in the dream? It was... 'You think you know what you are, but you haven't started yet.' Or something? And it's just weird little things like that. I already have a complex about being a ditz. This is actually starting to turn me into one."

"Slayer, I—"

Spike and Buffy were forcibly yanked apart. He went flying behind her, but Buffy stood her ground. She found herself facing two biker gang reject vamps who stunk to high heaven, one of them holding... a unicorn figurine. That was new.

"Okay, I know you only have people over to eat them nowadays." Buffy backhanded the one vamp, sending him flying to the street, well within reach of Spike. "But that's no excuse for bad manners." She dropkicked the unicorn-holding vampire back, landing such a hard hit that he went somersaulting onto somebody's lawn. That's when Buffy noticed they were only a block up from Revello Drive. That was not the usual stomping ground.

"Slayer," the unicorn-vamp hissed from the lawn.

Buffy yawned dramatically. "Read me a new one, would ya? There's classic, and then there's just cliché."

"Brad, a little help over here?"

Buffy twirled to the source of the strained voice: Spike had the vampire she'd sent his way lifted off the ground, his hand wrapped around its neck. "You know," Spike said, his voice low and rumbly, "you really should apologize to the lady."

"Aww!"

Buffy and Spike both looked to unicorn vamp.

"You broke it!" The vamp got to his feet. Buffy checked the lawn, where the unicorn had smashed to bits. "I got it for her special!"

"Her who?" Buffy pulled her stake from her jacket. Glory wouldn't be working with vamps, would she? But this close to the house...

Spike's vampire giggled. Spike tightened his clutch around the guy's throat. "He's so sire-whipped," the vamp wheezed.

"Sire?" Spike's mouth hung open. He was remembering something. Buffy recognized the look from the past couple of months, when he'd remember his first go-around. "Wait just a minute." He squeezed until something popped and the vampire that had been in his hand turned to ash. "Harmony. Oh, bollocks!"

"Harmony?" Buffy so didn't get the freak-out. She shrugged and pitched her stake at the second vampire, whose dust floated down over the broken unicorn. "As in your ex slash Cordelia's lackey Harmony? What's the big?"

"Dawn," Spike said. "Harm knows where you live, Slayer."

He sprinted for the house and Buffy followed, both of them pushing their physical limits. It took all of thirty seconds to arrive at the front door. The window was smashed, and Xander was standing in the doorway. Anya arrived next to him, carrying an ice pack. That was when Buffy noticed Xand was cradling his arm, and Anya's head was bleeding.

"What direction did they go?" Buffy demanded.

"The caves," Spike said. "I know where they are. Harris, can I—"

Xander pulled his car keys from his pocket and tossed them to Spike.

"Call Wills," Spike said as he unlocked Xander's car. "Have the Wiccas come and do a de-invite on the place. Fast." He slid into the driver's seat and Buffy took shotgun.

XXXXX

By the time they arrived at Harmony's hideout, she was doing the monologuing. Spike and Buffy staked the three minions near the entrance. They tip-toed toward where they heard her voice.

"I mean, I'm the one who put this group together. Me!"

Buffy and Spike each leaned on one side of the archway. Buffy peered inside, saw Dawn tied up. Harmony was close, but Buffy knew that she and Spike were quick. If they moved in together, with the element of surprise on their side...

"But they treat me like I don't even matter," Harmony complained. "Do you have any idea what that feels like?"

Dawn's nose twisted up. "A little."

Buffy felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. She hated that Dawn might feel that way. Spike drew her attention. He narrowed his eyes, trying to tell her something, comfort her, maybe. When he nodded, they slipped in. Spike kept along the wall, edging closer and closer to where Dawn was bound up. Buffy made her presence very known.

"Harmony," Buffy said, twirling her stake between her fingers.

"Slayer." Harmony turned, popping out her hip. She was wearing even more makeup than she had when she was alive. Which was impressive, considering the lack of reflection and all. "We meet at last.

"We've met Harmony, you half-wit." Buffy shook her head. She tried not to let her focus wander to Spike and Dawn as he untied her, just monitoring from her periphery. "Look, Harm—when you tried to be head cheerleader, you were bad. When you tried to chair the homecoming committee, you were really bad. But when you try to be bad ... you _suck._ "

"Oh yeah? Well—" Harmony shrieked, spinning around. Her arm was sizzling.

Dawn took three steps back toward Spike. Dawn held what looked like an old mini liquor bottle (Buffy didn't need three guesses to know where that'd come from) and raised one eyebrow. "Holy water, bitch."

"Dawnie!" Buffy gasped. All three of the others turned to Buffy. Buffy glowered at her little sister. "Language."

"You hurt my arm!" Harmony pouted. She started toward Dawn. Before Buffy could make two steps in their direction, Spike had Harmony pinned to the cave wall, his fingers around her throat. "Aww, Spikey. It's just like old times."

Dawn snorted. "Uh, ew?"

"C'mon Dawn," Buffy said. "We're going."

Dawn tucked the bottle back into her jacket pocket and walked toward Buffy. Buffy wrapped an arm around her shoulders, the pair of them starting for the cave entrance. They heard Spike talking to Harmony:

"Get out of town, Harm. I don't wanna run a stake through your heart, but—"

"I do."

Buffy saw the guy in all black come into the room from a tunnel on the other side. He had on a ski mask and... The stun gun went off and Spike was twitching on the ground. Buffy shoved Dawn out of the crossfire, then dove to Spike's side. He grimaced, his limbs still rigid from the electric shock. Harmony went into game face and lunged at the masked intruder. Dust exploded in the air and the man in black pulled a stake back from it. Dawn yelped on the other side of the doorway.

Jumping to her feet, Buffy hit the stake out of the guy's hand and away from Spike. Then she used the heel of her hand to slam the guy in the solar plexus, smacked him against the wall. Buffy yanked the huge stun gun hanging around his shoulder, tearing the strap. She aimed it at the guy.

"So do we want to play a game of what does this button do, or are you gonna tell me why in the hell you just almost killed my boyfriend and my little sister?" she growled.

"Whoa, whoa, wait." The guy held his hands up in surrender. She recognized that voice. Between that and the Initiative gear, it hardly surprised her when the guy removed his mask and revealed himself as...

"Riley?"

"Hey Buffy." He tilted his head, looking beyond Buffy. "Hey Dawnie. You okay over there?"

Dawn stood. "Don't. Call me. Dawnie."

"She's still a little upset over the whole you-working-for-the-Initiative thing."

"Yeah." Dawn moved toward Spike. "I don't like guys who help kidnap my sister."

"Runs in the family," Buffy muttered. "So do I have to start with the interrogating, or..."

Something static-y made noise. Riley touched a wire wrapped around his ear. "Ten-four. HSTs terminated. No other life forms on site. Will report for debrief at oh-one-hundred hours."

Dawn helped Spike to his feet. He held one hand to his ribs, hunched over as Dawnie supported him. "Remind me again, Slayer, why we don't just waste him?"

"You want to explain what The Initiative is doing this whole still being a thing?" Buffy demanded.

"And why they're muckin' about on _our_ Hellmouth again?" Spike coughed, then righted himself with a heavy breath.

"It's not The Initiative," Riley said. "It's the U.S. Government."

"I'm not really caring," Buffy said. "Are you guys really caring?"

"Sounds like the same diff to me," Dawn said.

"Look, our satellites read a spike in sub-terrestrial energy in the area, so they sent in a team to clean the place up a bit. Then we're returning to..." Riley rubbed the back of his head. "Well, I can't tell you where. But it was high levels of energy, even for a Hellmouth."

Buffy and Spike glanced at one another. Could be Dawn's key energy, or maybe Glory was here? Either way, best to get the army types out of town as quick as possible. They were going to get in the way at bare minimum, try to hurt Dawn at the worst.

"Well, way to go, Captain America," Spike said. "You killed the dumbest vampire ever turned. Now go tell your army gits to bugger off. We'll take it from here."

Riley kept his eyes on Spike and Dawn, though he whispered to Buffy. "You sure you're okay?"

Buffy sighed and lowered the stun gun. "Totally fine."

"Alright. Uh, if you need me, I'll leave my number at your place."

"You're allowed to give out your phone number when you're undercover or whatever?"

"Well, no. It'll be a florist. You have to ask for the white tulips with a red bow."

"Right."

"Anything." Riley glared at Spike. "Anything at all. You girls just give me a call." He left out of the tunnel he'd entered through.

"I seriously don't like him," Dawn said.

"You didn't mention The Initiative'd be in town." Buffy ran her hand over her hair. "Or that Riley would be back, like, ever."

Spike rubbed his nose. "Finn was still here for a bit yet the last time. Whole thing's new."

"Some use you are," Dawn teased, smiling at him. "Might as well call the fortune teller hotline."

"I don't wanna hear it, Nibblet. You're the one who got yourself bloody kidnapped."

"Can we get home _before_ Mom flips out about Dawn being in a hostage situation with the undead members of my graduating class?"

"Let's," Spike said.

As they exited the cave, Buffy thought back to the piece of conversation she'd eavesdropped on between Harmony and her sister, about being treated like she didn't matter. Buffy laced her arm around Dawn's, the way she did sometimes when she and Wills were taking a walk. It didn't matter how she had become her sister; Dawn _was_ her sister. It was deeper than just being related, like Dawn was a part of her. Buffy wasn't going to let anything put Dawn at risk. Buffy glanced at Spike on her other side and grinned. He sure as hell wasn't going to let anything happen to either of them, either.

"So what homework have you got tonight?" Buffy asked.

"Ugh. Do you think I can get a pass on account of trauma?"

"That, Bit, would mean we had to tell your mum about the trauma business. Which would put all of us in that house on lockdown for the next lifetime or two."

"Shoot. Then I've got, like, some dumb sonnets to read and write about and algebra."

"Doesn't algebra totally suck?" Buffy said. Common ground topic achieved. Piece of cake.

"Oh my God, yes! Like, this one time in class, Janice asked Mrs. Tran 'What're we gonna use this for?' and she was all 'Go to the principal's office.'"

Buffy listened as Dawn continued the bulk of their conversation all the way home. She kept her eyes on Spike most of the time, wondering why his hand kept finding its way to his left duster pocket. He caught her watching, once, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lighting one and puffing away on the way to their front door.


	7. Chapter 7

_This chapter is dedicated to Taste Like Special, RAGAnne, Rinso, Cloongarvin, and fourthingsandalizard, with a special shout-out to Bunny._

 _This section is more humor-based than anything, I think. Shit will be hitting the fan come Thursday's chapter, and there will be definite news on the Big Bad front this week and next week._

 _As a side note of updates, I'm currently 58,000+ words in and writing Chapter 26. I've also got the basic idea for the plot figured out for the last installment of the trilogy, as well as the Big Bad and maybe even the title! I'm excited. Are you excited? I'm excited._

Chapter 7

Spike sat on the floor of Willow and Tara's dorm room, resting his elbows on his knees. The whole place smelled of spices and incense. Harris was pawing through the crystals and witchy things on their dresser. Red and her bird sat side by side on their bed, fingers laced. Tara had a worried little sideways smile, and Wills rolled her eyes.

"C'mon," Xander said. "There's gotta be something in here. Some medallion with enough mojo to keep me from being the butt monkey all the time."

Spike chuckled. "There ain't enough ruby slippers in Oz for that one, mate."

"Are you being helpful?" Xander spun around, holding a crystal ball in one hand and a necklace in the other. "'Cause otherwise, zip it." He turned to the girls. "Now, what does this thing do?" Xander held the necklace up.

"It matches my purple sweater." Willow reached forward and swiped it from the boy. She glanced at her girlfriend. "I was looking for this."

Tara tucked Willow's short hair back behind her ear.

Harris was freaking out because he'd been on patrol with the Slayer the night before and had gotten his arse kicked by some demon or another. The thing had run away after Buffy had at it. It was no harm, no foul, but the boy was still losing his bleeding mind about it.

"Look." Xander put the crystal ball back where he found it. As he paced the room, he fussed with his oversized, unbuttoned, ruffled Hawaiian shirt. "The Buffster's got enough on her plate, what with Dracula and Harmony and—" He spun to Spike. "What is it you call him?"

"Wanker? Solider Boy? Captain Cardboard?"

Xander snapped his fingers. "Captain Cardboard. That's the one. With all of them running around and little Dawnie the Kidnap Mag—" He stopped himself after Wills glared at him. "And regular Slayer stuff and..."

"Um, sweetie?" Tara said. "Maybe you should sit down before you hurt yourself?"

"No! I'm not gonna—" The boy fell ass over teacup, a sparkly scarf snaked around his feet. "I hate everything," he muttered into the carpeted floor.

"Some men are fighters," Spike said, getting to his feet. "Some men are poets." He wiped off the front of his duster, just to take more time. "You, Harris?" He reached out his hand. Xander took it, lifting himself from the floor. He was even more of a rumpled wreck than he'd been before. "You're a natural-born twit."

"And you wonder why you got fired from your job as a motivational speaker," Xander said.

"And here I thought it was because he didn't like the uniform." All three of them turned to Tara, who had her head ducked though she smirked behind her long brown hair.

"Dunno why you're all out of sorts about one slimy demon anyway," Spike said. "They get away occasionally. It's nothing to get your knickers in a twist over."

"Yeah, well, you weren't the one to get zapped with the magic wand of doom, okay?"

As the boy carried on the conversation with the girls, Spike wandered over to the dresser Xander had been ransacking. Shiny gems and old dried flowers and stuff. He never really had a knack for the magics. Dru played with it here and there, mostly tarot and junk. Buffy was training with Giles at The Magic Box. They'd increased the number of sessions since Buffy knew Glory was coming. Spike would take off sometimes when the Bit didn't need watching and the Slayer was busy, run around town and stop in at Willie's, looking for any of the scabby minions or the hell bitch herself. So far, no sign of her. Spike liked to hope that she couldn't find Sunnydale, that they might be in the clear; he also wasn't bloody stupid and knew that things didn't work that way, especially on a Hellmouth.

"Spike?"

"Hello? Anyone undead in there?"

Spike stirred himself, facing the lot of them. "What's that?"

Wills thinned her lips. "Tara was just telling you what she found about the legalization of certain ceremonies?"

"Oh, I, uh, Earth Mother, do you wanna..."

"They know," Tara said, twisting her nose.

"Know what?" Spike's eyes widened. His hands instinctively went to the little velvet box in his left duster pocket.

"I told Willow. That you wanted me to look into ceremony officiating. She's better at the Internet stuff than I am. I thought she could help."

"And why does he know?" Spike pointed his accusation at Harris. "He's no techno guru."

Tara glanced sidelong at Red before she stood from the bed, playing with the hem of her flowy yellow shirt. "I didn't tell him. Willow just can't keep a secret. It's like word vomit."

"I didn't tell him!" Wills said, jumping to her feet.

From behind Willow, Harris nodded that she had, in fact, told him. Tara giggled and Wills glared between them.

"Bloody brilliant," Spike grumbled. "So what? She knows? Buffy?"

Tara shook her head. "I at least made Willow promise not to tell any of the Summers women."

"Dawn might already know," Spike muttered.

"What, the tinniest Summers can know and not me?" Xander slapped on a huge grin, giving away just how much he was poking fun at Spike.

"Well, she helped me find my mum's ring, alright? What was I gonna tell her? That I like puttin' on lady's clothes when Big Sis ain't watchin'?"

"You already wear nail polish," Xander said.

"She's too smart," Spike went on, trying to pretend he didn't hear that so he wouldn't have to wound the boy's already damaged pride any further. "Woulda figured it out anyway." Besides, Spike needed a woman on the inside to help him plot out how he'd go about it. He'd almost done it mid-patrol, the week before. Wasn't exactly romantic, though, and it'd been interrupted by Dawn's kidnapping anyway. The ponce-y poet in him craved the perfect moment, something that'd make her as happy as Red's will-be-done spell had. He'd bug Joyce about it, but the lady was about to have more than enough on her mind. Best keep his stupid troubles to himself around the lady. Spike tilted his head. "You're takin' this awful well, Harris. I know that the sweet witch likes me, and Red's likely to get all girly happy for Buffy." He jerked his head toward Xander. "What's your deal?"

"I've been told I'm very happy for you two," Harris said. He stuck his hands in his jeans pockets with a nod.

Spike turned to the witches, who both shook their heads.

"By the way," Xander added, "Anya said the fake paperwork making you a real person in the eyes of Uncle Sam all went through with her buddy without a hitch."

Ah. So Demon Girl had threatened vengeance if Harris didn't fall in line. Spike also had to wonder if he was starting to grow on the boy like an affectionately thought-of fungus. He smirked. "So no threats of staking me if I hurt her, then?" He licked his teeth. Just had to rub this whole thing in. It was in his nature.

"Nope," Xander said.

"Well this is easier than I thought it'd be," Red muttered. Tara nodded.

"I don't have to, anyway," Harris added.

"Right, right." Spike rolled his eyes. "Girl power. Slayer can take care of herself."

"No. Well, I mean, yes. But it's not that." Xander moved forward, clapping Spike on the shoulder. "It's Dawn."

"Yes, yes. I'm sure she'd give me a good shriekin'-at if I did anything outta line."

"Nah." Xander laughed. "You'd just wake up on fire."

Spike just stared at Harris, mouth gaping. The boy might be right on that. Dawn was every bit as tough as her sister, even in younger form. And he remember a threat like that after he'd returned to Sunnydale, when The First was making him ten kinds of barmy. "Uh." Spike cleared his throat. "There was some kinda news about a ceremony?"

"Right." Tara grinned, her face turning a little pink. "Willow helped me put in paperwork."

XXXXX

Buffy shivered. She didn't think they'd be at The Magic Box quite so late. Now she was leaving Giles' car, parked on Revello drive. Buffy was wearing tight spandex workout clothes and no jacket and seriously regretting it. Giles turned the car off and joined her to walk toward the front door of her mom's place.

"How long has Cordy been able to see the future, exactly?" Buffy asked, arms wrapped around herself. Giles had been updating her, since they decided to call it a night, on all the future warnings Spike had given them.

"A little less than a year, Angel said." Giles adjusted his glasses. "A friend of theirs died and passed the gift along to her."

Buffy took a deep breath. Buffy was a little hurt that this wasn't part of Angel's update when he was in Sunnydale last. Then again, he'd pretty much been laser focused on the whole "Are you seriously dating Spike?" and "You should stop dating Spike now" thing. The air was getting much cooler, and it was quiet. Not even a breeze making tree branches move. She and Giles stopped on the front porch, finishing their conversation before they went inside.

"And she saw...?" Buffy didn't want to say the words herself. Even hearing Spike talk about her mother's death had knocked the wind out of her. But Giles had gotten in touch with the Council, and they'd gotten in touch with every known psychic.

Giles removed his glasses, polishing them with the end of his shirt. "Is she home? Joyce, I mean?"

Buffy shook her head. This was so not of the good. "No, she's getting more pieces for the gallery. New shipment in LA or something."

"Right, well... I hate to say, Cordelia and the others have not foreseen any change in your mother's fate. They keep seeing her laying on the couch, pale and wide-eyed, and then you come into the room."

"What, the visions don't come with any helpful exposition? Not even what makes it happen?"

Giles replaced his glasses and shook his head. He stared up at the sky and then exhaled slowly. "I'm sorry. We'll keep looking, of course." He grinned, glancing at her. "Wouldn't be the first prophecy you'd laughed in the face of."

"Damn skippy." Buffy cracked a smile, even if her insides felt like they were being shredded. She couldn't lose her mom. She wouldn't. They'd find a way.

That was when they heard a lamp crash inside. Buffy opened the door immediately. Anya stood in the dining room, talking rapidly on the phone. Dawn was in the living room, near the couch. Some kind of fistfight was happening, between a guy in a Hawaiian shirt and a guy in a blue button-down. Buffy inserted herself. She'd have thought the button-down guy was Spike, but they were both brunettes. So Riley, or maybe Angel. When she shoved the two of them apart, Buffy looked to Xander, easily identifiable in the Hawaiian shirt, first.

"Anyone want to tell me what the hell is going on here?"

"He's a demon."

Buffy turned to the source of the accusation, the guy in the blue shirt being held back by her left hand. His face... "Xander?"

"He's not Xander! I'm Xander!"

"Willow and Tara are on their way!" Anya shouted, still at a safe distance in the dining room. Giles had put himself between the fight and Dawn.

Buffy walked past Giles and stroked back her little sister's hair. "Are you alright?"

"No. What is that?" Dawn asked. She was incredibly pale, like she'd lost a ton of blood.

Buffy surveyed her, but no damage had been done; she was just freaked. "We'll figure it out, I promise." Buffy held Dawn close. By the time she turned around, the two Xanders had taken to throwing punches at each other again.

"Xander!" Giles bellowed. They didn't even seem to notice.

"Separate!"

The pair of Xanderses broke apart, Hawaiian shirt falling back against the fireplace and blue shirt into one of the armchairs. Willow and Tara, holding hands, walked into the living room, followed, very closely, by Spike. The Xanders started to stand again.

"Kali, Hera, Kronos, Thonic," the witches chanted. Buffy held onto Dawn, keeping her out of the crossfire. Wills and Tara continued when the boys were fully on their feet: "Air like nectar thick as onyx. Cassiel by your second star, hold mine victim as in tar."

Both Xanders went to take a step forward, but something stopped them exactly where they stood. They pressed their hands against the air in front of them, hitting some kind of invisible force field thingy.

"Well, on the plus side, you have the opportunity to practice your funny mime routine," Dawn said.

"Hey!" The Xanderses shouted.

"So which one is the real one?" Buffy asked. She looked to Spike, hoping that somewhere in that bleach blond noggin he'd be able to remember what caused this. He seemed just as befuddled as the rest of them.

"Macho Macho Man was with us the whole night, Slayer," Spike said. He pointed to Hawaiian shirt Xander by the fireplace. "He didn't do more 'n leave to tinkle."

"But Xander was with us all night, too!" Dawn squeaked. Buffy released her to poke at her own ear, which was now ringing. "But it was blue shirt Xander."

"Uh, Giles?" Buffy turned to her watcher.

"Did anybody make any wishes to strangers in the past day?" Anya edged back into the living room, clutching the cordless phone like she was about to use it as a bludgeoning weapon. "Think, people."

Tara closed the front door. "Not me or Willow, I think." Wills shook her head, confirming that.

"I haven't seen much of anyone outside of the shop," Giles said. His hand was on his waist as he examined the Xander copies. "And the only thing I wished was that a man would stop poking at a statue of Ishtar."

Buffy and Dawn only shook their heads.

"Guys, I'm me. Clearly," blue shirt Xander said. "C'mon. I went to work at the construction site this morning, signed the renter's agreement for my and Ahn's new apartment. Why would I do any of that if I didn't have to?"

Anya gasped, a hand flying to her mouth. "We had sex!"

"You what?" Hawaiian shirt Xander demanded.

"We had sex," Anya repeated. Buffy wished she could turn off her ears at will, and also maybe erase memories. "Blue shirt Xander. After he signed the lease. He _can't_ be a demon. I'd know."

"Please stop," Giles said, voicing everyone's opinion. "I beg you. We trust your judgment."

"Look!" Haiwaiian shirt Xander held up his left arm. His wrist was covered in a black brace. Dawn had drawn some hearts on it in silver marker two days earlier. "From when Harmony attacked last week. See? Me."

Blue shirt Xander unbuttoned the wrist of his sleeve, revealing the same brace. Complete with same Dawn doodle originals.

"The demon that attacked you last night," Giles said. "Could it have... Made copies of Xander, somehow?"

"Wait a minute!" Anya pointed from one Xander to the other. "Did he have a wand? Sparky electric thing?"

"Yeah," Buffy and both Xanders said as one.

"Ferula Gemini." Anya nodded, a huge smile on her face as she looked around the room.

"Is Ferula Gemini a... guy you know?" Tara guessed.

Anya scoffed and waved her hand, her short blond curls shaking. "No! It's a weapon. They separate people into their aggressive parts and their passive parts."

"Which one am I?" Hawaiian shirt Xander asked. The rest of the room, including blue shirt Xander, shot him pity looks. "Oh man. I'm butt monkey Xander?"

"So which one is Xander?" Dawn asked.

"They both are," Giles said. "Two halves. You kill one, you kill both."

"Lovely. I'm guessing there's some sort of smush them back together spell?" Buffy said, directing her attention to Tara and Willow.

"We'll check," Wills said.

"Lady Vengeance. You wouldn't happen to know one, would you?" Spike asked.

"Not off hand. Usually they would've killed each other by now."

"Dawn," Buffy said. "Why don't you go up to bed? We'll keep quiet down here, alright?"

"I see how it is," Dawn grumbled, shuffling toward the stairs. "Send me away 'cause Dawn's too young to understand all this magic whatever."

"Dawn, that's not—"

Dawn rushed up the stairs and slammed the door.

"Great." Buffy huffed, running her hand over her head.

"She'll come 'round, Slayer." Spike moved toward her, grabbed her hand. "She's just a tiny little hormone bomb is all."

"Tiny?" Buffy rolled her eyes. "At this rate, she'll be taller than me by November."

Spike chuckled. He had the whole biting his lower lip because he knew something about the future thing.

"Oh. Really?" Buffy slumped against his chest. "I just can't win."

"Spike, can you help me in the kitchen?" Anya's voice was stiff, like she was trying to cover up sex talk around Dawn (something she rarely covered up around anyone) and was having a really hard time finding a way to talk around it. "I think I need you to help me _read something_ on this _spell_ I might know."

Spike turned to Anya. "Sure." Buffy raised her eyebrows at him. "Might be in Fyarl?" he said. With that, Xander's girlfriend and Buffy's boyfriend headed into the kitchen under extremely sketchy circumstances.

"Right, well," Giles said.

"Let's get the magics going." Buffy flopped back onto the couch. She'd have to see if Dawn was still mad at her in the morning, and try and figure out what her boyfriend was off talking to Anya about, and how to keep her mom from getting sick. She glanced at Willow, who jumped when she fell under Buffy's gaze. Maybe she knew something about what Spike was up to. Wills was terrible with secrets. All Buffy had to do was guess it in the ballpark and Willow would spill.


	8. Chapter 8

_This one is for RAGAnne and Taste Like Special!_

 _Some personal/slayer developments here. In Saturday's chapter, expect a teensy bit more of a plot development... and, dare I say it, some real fun smut. ;)_

 _If you've been itching for the pace and plot to start barreling along, then next week's chapters are gonna make ya happy. It may or may not include some more beat-up type fun that may or may not include our favorite hell god. And, of course, healthy doses of some Spuffy fluff, Scoobies, and the like._

 _Thank you to everyone reading, and especially to my reviewers. Your encouragement makes writing this even more of a delight._

Chapter 8

Spike's eyes shot open when he smelled fear.

It wasn't even close by, and it was still among the strongest he'd ever smelled. He jumped out of Buffy's bed, yanking on some jeans. The Slayer'd left a couple of hours ago for class. Grabbing a tee, he tugged it over his head as he sped down the stairs. He could hear the Niblet chanting "Mom? Mom!" By the time Spike got into the kitchen, Joyce had collapsed on the floor and Dawn was kneeling next to her, hands on her mother's shoulders.

"No!" Spike roared. This startled Dawn, and she fell back on her haunches, her eyes red and tears spilling over. Spike knelt down in her place, taking Joyce's hand as he listened. Steady heartbeat, but much slower than was healthy. Her face was ghostly pale.

"She just fell," Dawn whispered. Spike looked over his shoulder, found the frying pan on the floor Dawn was staring at. "She fell. I don't..."

"Pint sized, I need you to listen to me, a'right?" Spike said, voice gruff to snap her out of it. Best way to get a Summers woman moving was to piss her off. She scowled at him; mission accomplished. "Go call an ambulance. She's alright, but we need to get her to the hospital now. I can't drive in sunlight without the DeSoto here. When you're done, you'll sit with her while I call the old man and leave a note for Buffy." Dawn nodded, hiccupped, and then got to her feet to pick up the phone.

"Now you listen to me, Joyce," he whispered, squeezing her hand. His Cockney accent faded away for a minute, replaced by the accent he'd had as a human. "Your girls need you, okay? You're not going to leave them, and I'm not going to let you die. So let's get that cleared up straight away." It was too early to even be worried. Even if she still got sick (which Rupert seemed to think was inevitable), she had months of treatment and recovery before...

"They're coming," Dawn said, kneeling next to her mother again. "What should I do?"

Spike sniffed, then cleared his throat. "Just hold her hand, keep talkin' to her, alright?"

Dawn took over when Spike released Joyce's clammy hand. He jumped to his feet, looking for something to scribble on for the Slayer. If he found his blanket, he could get out to the ambulance and ride in the back—couldn't be much sunlight there.

XXXXX

Buffy'd come home from class and seen the note at Revello Drive and sprinted all the way here only to be sat down in the waiting room. Spike had been pacing over by the TV, never letting his eyes leave Buffy and Dawn as they leaned against one another on the stiff hospital chairs. The stench of this place made him sick; bodily fluids gone sour, rotting flesh, death.

"Summers?"

Spike's stomach turned as he watched Buffy force herself to her feet. Dawn jumped to her feet, too, standing next to her big sis and looking for cues.

"How is she, doctor?" Buffy asked. Her voice was quiet and small, a little girl askin' after her mother.

Spike started for his girls, ready to support 'em any way they might need. They'd all get through this without the bloodshed this time—Buffy, Dawn, Joyce. He couldn't have come all this way... Spike rested a hand on Buffy's shoulder, and another on Dawn's next to her. Spike looked to the doctor when he started talking, but Spike couldn't hear the words for a minute. He saw the man's face, and the blood pumping in his ears took Spike over. It took every ounce of self-control he possessed to not vamp out right then and there.

Ben.

They were talking to Ben.

"We'll continue running a few tests, but right now it looks like it could've been anything from irregular blood sugar to vertigo."

Or a buggering brain tumor. Spike didn't remember many specifics about Joyce's illness, but he sure as hell remembered that. Buffy was thanking Ben and then Ben turned back to trot down the damn hall. "I'm goin' for a walk," Spike grumbled.

"A walk?" Buffy pushed.

"Yeah, a smoke."

"You can't smoke in here," she hissed, looking over her shoulder to make sure no one was paying attention to them. "And it's a little... sunny... for you to take one outside, don't you think, Spikey?"

Dawn let out an indignant "pfft."

"What?" Spike and Buffy both asked.

"He's clearly gonna nick some blood."

"Spike! There will be no blood nicking."

Spike bounced on his feet. He didn't want to piss the Slayer off, but he needed to go after Ben. At least to keep an eye on him and at worst... One human life against the hell god? He blinked at Dawn, mind flashing to the terror in her eyes on the tower when Doc was about to throw Spike off of it. Then Buffy, imagining that hollow sound where her heartbeat used to be. He shook his head, which the Slayer mistook.

"Fine," she said, pointing at him. "About to expire only. And if you get caught, I am not bailing you outta jail." Buffy took a deep breath, returning to her seat as she combed her fingers through the ends of her golden locks.

Dawn grinned. "S'okay. I'd bail you out."

"That piggy bank of yours might come in right handy, Bitty Buffy. The meantime, watch your sis for me?"

Dawn's eyes lit up at the prospect of the boatload of manly responsibility and she skipped over to Buffy. Spike, meanwhile, spun on his heel. He got to the end of the hall, then paused. It was near impossible to randomly guess where The Beast had run off to. He'd said something about more tests, and Joyce was over in 227. Spike could start there and suss it out with what he found. He stalked down the hall, dodging nurses and keeping his face angled downward the whole way.

When he stopped in front of Joyce's room, Spike grabbed a vase of sunflowers from the cart in front of 226 and held it in front of his face. He edged closer to the door. Spike took a deep sniff. He mostly got a punch in the face from the sunflowers' scent, but underneath it the faintest hint of something demonic. He glanced at Ben, reading to Joyce off of a clipboard. One of the nurses trying to exit the room stumbled. Ben rushed to keep the tools on her tray from hitting the floor. In return, he received a palmful of scalpels and other sharp medical shinies. Or, he should have. Not a single wound blemished his hand, not even a hint of blood. Ben didn't even seem to feel what had touched him any more than he might've felt his clipboard. Spike turned his attention to the instruments on the floor. All those that'd touched the boy were bent at ninety degree angles.

Rupert would want to know about this.

XXXXX

Spike groaned, smashing his head back against the wall. The receiver of the hospital pay phone was still pressed to his ear as the watcher prattled on about "I've got a theory" this and "This could get serious before it's passed" that. Spike had just wanted to report the new info in and get back to the ladies who needed him right now, but the old man just didn't let the boring stuff go for anythin'.

"...side effect of their fusion."

"Why don't you consult your books, Rupes, and let us know what's what when Buffy and I stop in next?"

"Yes. Yes, right, of course."

XXXXX

Joyce was gathering her things from the bedside table. Buffy and Dawn were sharing an unhappy look between them which their mom actively ignored.

"Have you girls seen my watch?"

"Mom, would you just slow down for a minute?" Buffy grabbed her mother's arm as she started to put her earring back in. "You're gonna fall over again."

Spike shuffled into the room, his jaw locked. Buffy widened her eyes, hoping he'd help.

"What'd the doc say, Joyce?" Spike asked.

"It's nothing." Joyce smiled at him, then turned her attention to the girls. Dawn crossed her arms over her chest and raised her eyebrows. "Really. I'm fine, clearly!"

Even Dawn, who didn't know what was probably coming this year, wasn't buying it. "Tell that to the pancake batter on the kitchen floor, Mom."

"The doctor said she needs bed rest," Buffy finally volunteered. "The shop is too much stress and she needs to take it easy."

"Well then I'll get the popcorn started and Niblet can break out the tea." Spike nodded.

Buffy tilted her head at him, appreciating the "see problem, fix problem" response. Action was her area of expertise.

"Don't be silly, Spike." Joyce laid her hand on his shoulder. Spike ducked his head. Buffy caught, out of the corner of her eye, something shiny in Dawn's hand. Dawn held her arm out. "Oh, thank you dear." Joyce slipped her watch onto her wrist. "Oh no!"

"What?" the girls shrieked at once, each of them reaching for one side of their mother.

"The gallery! I never got in to open and..." She looked to the wall clock. "It's already ten a.m.!"

"The witchy types have it covered," Spike supplied.

"But I had a meeting set with a dealer at 9!" Joyce held a hand to her forehead. Buffy's heart raced when she noticed her mom's cheeks were getting a little red.

"Nope. Bed," Buffy decided.

"And just when did you become the parent?" Joyce demanded.

"Pft." Dawn rolled her eyes. "Since when has Buffy had to be a parent to be bossy, Mom?"

"Fine, I'll go home. But the gallery..."

"Is in fine hands," Spike said.

"Totally!" Dawn agreed. "I mean, Tara's all sweet and people like her and stuff. Plus, Art History major. And Willow's really smart!"

"C'mon, fainting lady," Buffy said, leading her mother from the room. "It's watching soaps on the couch for you."

"Can we get a huge bag of gummy bears on the way home?" Dawn yelped, bouncing along behind them.

Buffy didn't know how she was going to do this—a whole year of knowing what might happen with her mom, with Dawn, with her. She could smell Spike's cigarette aroma as he walked silently behind them. Somehow, they'd all figure it out. Somehow, they'd all make it through. They had to. She couldn't let herself believe anything else right now.


	9. Chapter 9

_This one is dedicated to RAGAnne, Rinso, Taste Like Special, jackiemack916, and ElysiumPhoenix._

 _Smut alert. Bit of a fuzzy feels alert, too. :)_

 _Tuesday's chapter will be one of the most important so far. See you then!_

Chapter 9

Buffy was playing with the garnet and bronze charm of the necklace Spike had given her. Wills was picking at the sleeve of her fuzzy sweater. Both of them were on edge, could feel the anxiety. Wills didn't have the whole picture, but Buffy's mom being in the hospital at all was pretty much enough fuel for wigging. They were walking near the warehouse district. Buffy didn't want to be trapped in a cemetery tonight.

"So how's your... computer class... going?" Buffy asked. She couldn't remember the exact class name, though Wills probably had the code and the teacher's zodiac sign memorized.

"You mean 'Solitaire 101'?" Willow rolled her eyes. "I thought we'd at least be doing basic SEO or html, and all the teacher does is tell us to type three sentences or whatever."

"And that's... bad?"

"Well, I didn't go to college to goof around, Buffy. I want them to actually teach me things. I mean, for Gaia's sake I subbed for Miss Calendar's computer class in high school!" Willow combed her short hair behind her ears. "It'd be, like, if you were out slaying and Giles was trying to show you which end of the stake has the point."

Buffy wrinkled her nose. "Oh."

"Exactly. Tara's been looking at course offerings with me, though. I was thinking about maybe taking courses for a Religion and Spirituality major. Folklore, Paganism, all that kind of stuff. Sounds like fun!"

Buffy wouldn't attach the word "fun" to school—except for that time Synder got eaten. Buffy giggled.

"What?" Wills tilted her head.

"Nothing."

"So how's... um... New shoes?" Willow pointed to Buffy's red suede booties.

"Nah." Buffy stuck her hands in the pockets of her long coat. She could feel the stake stuffed into the waistband of her jeans shifting as they approached an old factory. Buffy thought she heard something in the distance, but she couldn't be sure. "Stole 'em from Mom."

"How... um..." Willow threw her head back, staring up at the night sky. The whole Wills trying to ask how her mom was doing without asking how her mom was doing was getting super awkward super quick.

Out of nowhere a huge guy lunged, tackling Willow to the ground.

"Oh thank god," Buffy muttered, yanking her stake out.

The vamp, pinning Willow to the ground by her shoulders, glared up at Buffy with golden eyes. Buffy raised her stake.

"Disparo!" Lightning zapped the vamp from Willow's hands, and he tumbled backwards. Willow jumped to her feet just as the vamp did.

"Slayer needs her pet witch to do her fighting for her?" the vamp taunted. "I—" He looked down at the stake in his chest, then gawked up at Buffy.

"Did I interrupt?" Buffy said. "Sorry. Some demon ate the Etiquette teacher at Sunnydale High." And, like that, the vamp was dust.

"Nice banter, Buff." Willow grinned.

"I live to banter."

It took them both a minute to realize that a guy was laying on the ground against the fence. Buffy and Willow raced to him. The guy was older than them, and wearing this long brown robe that looked a couple of centuries old. The side of his neck was all covered in blood, like the vamp had been snacking on him, but his face was all bruised and bloody, too. Buffy and Willow kneeled on either side of him. Willow ripped a tulle flower off of her sweater, folded it in half, and pressed it to the side of the guy's neck, where he was bleeding the worst.

"La tua sorella," the robed guy wheezed, his gaze directed at Buffy.

"What?"

"Your sister," Willow whispered.

"Dawn? What about Dawn?" Buffy demanded, narrowing her eyes.

The robed man coughed, blood dribbling down his chin.

"Come on. We need to get him to a hospital." Buffy grabbed his elbow, but Willow tugged on the sleeve of Buffy's coat.

"We can't move him," Wills whispered. "It's too late. There's too much blood." Her lips paled as she frowned.

"Your sister," the man said in a heavy accent.

"Yeah, you said that part already," Buffy snapped. "What do you want with Dawn?"

"She is The Key."

Buffy stared at Willow, her jaw slack. Wills' eyes were on the robed man, hanging onto his every word. Buffy had to rely on the hope that Willow would misinterpret something, or that she could play this off as a crazy dying man's words.

"She is an innocent in this. She needs you."

Buffy took a deep breath, her lip trembling. She nodded, once, hard. "I know." Buffy grabbed the man's hand with both of hers. He was starting to go limp, lifeless. He didn't have any time left. "I know," she muttered again.

Willow pulled the tulle flower away from the man's neck. "Buffy, I—"

"This helps." The man used his free hand to pull a glowing yellow ball from inside his robe. "Take. Use. Defeat The Beast. Salvaci... Salvaci."

Buffy nodded again, emphatically. "I will." She took the glowy ball from him with both of her hands. She stole another glance at Willow. If Wills had caught on to anything important, she sure wasn't letting Buffy in on that right now. "I'll take care of everything," Buffy said. "You can rest now."

The robed man wheezed, closed his eyes, and laid back against the fence. And, like that, he died. Willow held her hand over her mouth for a moment while the pair of them stared at him, speechless. It was Willow who broke the silence.

"What did he mean about a key?"

Buffy shrugged, shaking her head. She remembered what she'd told Spike and Giles, about wanting to keep the Glory/Dawn thing quiet. Dawn couldn't deal with this, not right now. They needed time. "No clue." Buffy stood, wiping off her jeans. "Come on, Wills. We'll find a pay phone so someone comes and gets him. Then head to The Magic Box."

XXXXX

Giles had called in the National Guard. Or, well, all the Scoobies. Spike had been babysitting Dawn, and they didn't want her bugging Joyce, so she tagged along, too. Buffy was fairly convinced that it was mostly because Dawn kicked Spike in the shin until he let her come with him. They all stood and sat around The Magic Box, staring at Buffy: Xander and Anya behind the register, Dawn sitting cross-legged on the table, Spike and Willow and Tara standing next to her, and Giles next to Buffy.

"Show 'em, Buff," Willow muttered. Tara rested her head on Wills' shoulder, smiling.

Buffy was suddenly really aware of each breath she took. She looked to Spike, whose eyes flickered with recognition that something serious was up. Buffy's eyebrows twitched as she stole a look at Dawn.

"What?" Dawn said. "I'm allowed to be here! If I stayed home, I was just gonna blast Blink 182 and wake Mom up." She stuck out her chin like she'd just won an argument.

"Fine." Buffy rubbed her forehead. She walked up to her coat, crumpled into a huge heap next to the register. Then Buffy pulled the glowy ball from underneath the coat and presented it to the class. "I put this before the group. What the hell is it?"

Giles carefully slipped his hand under it, holding it in front of his nose and squinting through his glasses at it. "Well, it appears to be paranormal in origin."

"See! That's what I said!" Willow's arms flailed with her outburst.

Xander tilted his head. "How can you tell?"

"Well." Giles pursed his lips. "It's so shiny."

"Well that's hardly a measure of the mystic nature of anything!" Anya grumbled.

"Ahn."

"It's, um, certainly pretty." Tara smiled sideways, brushing some hair behind her ears. "Where'd you find it?"

"On patrol," Buffy said, scratching the chain of her necklace.

"We were up by all those warehouses and stuff. Like where that old computer factory was," Willow said, looking from Xander to Giles and back again.

"You can't just pick up random glowing objects, Buffster! It could be world destroying." Xander pointed at the glowing ball. "Or have cooties."

"Good thing I'm up-to-date on all my shots," Dawn mumbled, only barely holding back a smile. She and Spike shared a sideways glance.

"Any good news from the future?" Buffy ventured. She knew that if it was Dawn or Glory-centric, Spike wouldn't say much in front of the others. But she could at least gauge if they were on to something with this. There was a reason Spike never played poker with her.

"Yes, Spike." Giles turned around, his glasses sliding down his nose a little so he could rock that retro stern librarian vibe. "Do you recognize this?"

Spike sniffed, then rubbed his nose. "Yeah. Saw it once. S'posed to repel Big Bads." Spike flicked his scarred eyebrow when he looked at Buffy. "Useful enough, but dinnt do much last time 'round."

Buffy shrugged. "Figured it was at least worth picking up."

Spike nodded. He pulled a cigarette from his duster pocket and lit up, taking a slow drag. "Every little bit counts."

Xander reached forward, taking the glow-y thing from Giles. "So this gets rid of Big Bads?"

"Somethin' like that," Spike muttered through the cigarette hanging from his lips. "Called it a dagger somethin' or other."

"That's, um..." Tara leaned toward Spike, keeping her gaze on the glow-y thing. "Spike, it's not _dagger_ shaped."

"No offence, love, but I wasn't exactly in the Slayer Sewing Circle last time 'round. Didn't sit here all day and bloody night researchin' with you lot. Mostly was just around durin' brawls, and even that was touch an' go."

"Maybe it's, like an 'Orb of Enlightenment' or something." Willow's tongue caught between her teeth. "Get it? It's got all that light and—"

Xander pitched the glow-y thing over Giles' head. It almost whizzed right between Spike and Dawn, but Spike reached out with one hand and caught it.

"Xander, what the hell?" Buffy spun to him, her eyes on fire. "You could've hurt Dawn!"

"Or Spike!" Anya slapped Xander's shoulder loud enough that the rest of them could hear it.

"First of all," Xander said, holding his pointer finger in Anya's direction, "ow!" Xand ran his hand over his messy hair. "Second of all, Spike said it affects Big Bads. Ergo, it should do something to him. But that was apparently a load of crap."

"Your response to 'this could hurt my boyfriend' is to hurl it at him?" Buffy stuck her hand on her hip, lips drawn tight.

"Aww, you still consider me a Big Bad?" Spike batted his eyelashes. "Harris, you _do_ care."

"Xander, apologize to Spike!" Anya shouted.

Spike dropped the glowing ball on the table and, before he could even finish the next puff on his cigarette, Dawn picked it up.

"Dawn, no!" Buffy screamed.

The ball glowed brighter suddenly, and Dawn's hair whipped up around her like she was stuck in the middle of a tornado or something. Her eyes flashed green. The green light from Buffy's Slayer dream after Adam had been killed. Spike leaned over and grabbed the orb thingy back.

"Hey!" Dawn said. "Why does everyone else get to touch it?"

"'Cause your mother'll chop us all into bite size pieces if she knows you're touchin' mysterious magic whatsits!" Spike shouted back. He slipped the thing into the pocket of his duster.

"Uh, did no one else see that?" Xander asked.

"See what, Xander?" Giles said with a glare.

"We'll just have to go into research mode tomorrow," Buffy said.

"Seriously?" Xander whispered to Anya next to him. "Am I the only one who saw..."

"Tomorrow?" Willow pouted. "But... but it's glowy and all the books are right..." She waved at the walls.

Tara stroked Willow's arm. "It's late, sweetie. Dawnie needs to go to school tomorrow and Buffy's probably tired from patrol."

Buffy yawned for effect.

"Fine," Wills grumbled. "Party poopers."

"We'll come by tomorrow morning?" Buffy looked to Giles for confirmation.

"Quite right," he said. "Uh, first, Buffy and Spike, I could use your help moving something in the inventory room in the basement."

"Right." Spike glided for the basement door.

"For once," Xander said, a huge goofy grin on his face, "it's good to not have superpowers."

XXXXX

Spike smashed his cigarette against the wall as Giles closed the door to the basement, then joined Spike and Buffy downstairs. The Slayer was fidgeting with her garnet necklace and chewing on her lower lip.

"Alright. One of you better start with the explaining," Buffy said. She leaned back against a table.

"Beats the hell outta me," Spike said. He swiped his hand over his gelled hair. He'd never seen Dawn touch the dagger thing last time, and he sure as hell didn't know the kid would react to it.

"Is it connected to Glory?" Rupert removed his glasses, holding his wrist over his closed eyes. "Or is it connected to another demon?"

"Definitely The Almighty Psychotic One." Spike paced, keeping his eyes on the Slayer the whole time, trying to get a sense of what was goin' on in that blond head of hers. She had enough to worry about with her mum. Girl needed to feel like this was all under control. This all needed to be under control. "Last time 'round, we pitched it at her. At Glory, I mean. Slowed her down for a minute, I think. 'Til the bitch crushed it." Didn't want to bring up the BuffyBot, if it could be avoided. Spike regretted having put out his cigarette. He needed something to do.

"Well that seems like a total waste," the Slayer said.

"So if it's connected with Glory," Giles said, slipping the glasses back on, "then, logically, it must be connected with Dawn as well."

"Hence the freaky green eye trick," Buffy muttered. "Wait. Wait!" She stood straight, eyes wide and workin' away at something.

Rupert and Spike tilted their heads at her, as per her instructions, waiting.

"The monks."

"Buffy," Giles said, voice strained, "what about the monks?"

"Those guys who made Dawn, right? That's where I found this. The guy, at the warehouse... He had a brown robe and spoke, like, Latin or something, something Willow could understand. He might be one of those monks, right?"

Giles shook his head and shrugged. "It's certainly possibly."

"And if he had _that,_ " Buffy said, pointing to the pocket of Spike's duster holstering the globe, "then it's almost definitely connected to Dawn, right?"

"Buffy, we've established that there's a connection. Especially with Ben having shown up in town."

"What does Ben have to—"

"Never mind," Spike said, waving Rupert off when he opened his mouth. "It's not worth the headache, love, trust me. Just know that this Ben guy's connected to Glory."

"Well, there's a plan!" Buffy picked up a jar of either pearls or teeth. (Spike couldn't really tell in the dark from this far away.) "If he's connected to Glory," she continued, holding the jar to her face and squinting at it, "why don't I just go kick his ass?"

"Buffy, he's human," Giles said. Spike glowered at him. "And, well, Spike saw him at the hospital and discovered he's currently impervious."

The Slayer placed the jar back on the table and rolled her eyes. "Right. Benefits of being besties with a hell god."

Spike giggled. "Oh, you have no idea, pet."

"Do you think the glowing thing can hurt Dawn?"

"It didn't seem that way," Rupert said. "It seemed..."

"The monks," Spike muttered.

"Yes, Spike," Giles scoffed. "We've established the existence and involvement of the monks, and several times over."

"No, Watcher. The monks made the littlest Summers into a real girl. They made the glowing ball. The monks don't want Dawn hurt. It's why they shipped her to the best warrior this world's got to offer. Maybe the thing protects her."

"What, like makes her invisible to the hell bitch or something?" Buffy leaned back against the table again.

"Or gives the bint a helluva headache if she violates her restraining order," Spike offered.

"It's possible," Giles said. "But perhaps we should research before we place it in Dawn's backpack."

"Fine," the Slayer said. "Giles, can you maybe take Dawn home? I think Spike and I should try to get a quick patrol in, make sure there's no other dead monks laying around town."

Giles nodded. He was halfway up the steps when Buffy spoke again.

"And Giles?"

"Yes, Buffy?"

"Make sure she does her science homework?"

Rupert smirked, then continued up the stairs and into the shop proper, closing the door behind him. Spike and the Slayer listened to the voices and footsteps and, when those died out, Spike waited for each heartbeat that didn't belong to his Slayer to vanish from the building.

"Should we cover a couple of cemeteries or the warehouses again, love?"

In a quick blur of white and tan, Spike was tackled against the wall. Buffy's lips were crashing against his, her teeth bruising his lip. Spike reached down and took the Slayer by the shoulders, distancing her from him. He didn't want her to ignore the bad things in her life by gettin' physical with him. He'd been there and bloody played that, and nobody won.

"What's wrong, Summers?"

Her big green eyes welled with tears as she glared up at him. "I need a distraction, Spike. I... It's too much. And you always make me feel safe. I just..."

"Shh. Shh. Kitten, c'mere." Spike wrapped the Slayer up in his arms. He stroked her hair, kissing the top of her head. "Anything you need, you know I'm here. I just don't want you to get lost in that head o' yours, alright?"

"I promise." She snuggled against his chest. "I just need a couple of hours where I'm not worrying about everyone else, where I'm not putting my brain into overdrive trying figure all this out or thinking about the fact that everyone is counting on me not to screw it all up." Buffy sighed.

Spike leaned down and kissed Buffy gently. He spun her about so that her back was against the wall. Then he crouched, lifting the bottom of her shirt and kissing the smooth tan skin of her stomach. He kept lifting the shirt as his lips kissed all along her torso, over her ribs. Finally, when he stood at full height, Spike pulled the white t-shirt over her head, tossing it toward the steps. He kissed Buffy's bare collarbone and shoulder before he felt her small, strong hands on his arms. Spike leaned back as Buffy looked him over. Then she worked her hands under the duster and slipped it off of him effortlessly, sticking the thing on the table next to them. She grinned, stroking his cheek. Spike smiled back, leaning into her touch.

It was just as he was starting to close his eyes that he felt himself flung backwards. Spike growled out of instinct, grabbing the Slayer's wrists before she could make contact with him again. She broke free, wrapping one hand behind his neck and bringing his lips down to hers, kissing him even harder than when they'd started, her tongue driving into his mouth and her hips swiveling against his. She released him from her grasp, just long enough to pin his shoulders against the wooden beam behind him.

"Careful there, Goldilocks," Spike whispered. He bit his lower lip with his canine, admiring the fire in his girl's eyes. Every time he saw her so alive, so vibrant, it was the greatest comfort he could have.

"Careful?" she echoed. Buffy's hands slid down his sides and, in one slow motion, she rolled the black t-shirt up his torso and over his head. "I'm the Slayer. It's not in the job description." She raised herself on her toes, teasing Spike's earlobe between her teeth. "William," she whispered in his ear.

Spike roared and twined his fingers in her long blond hair, taking tight hold. His human teeth clamped over one of Buffy's shoulders. He sucked the skin there, could smell the blood pumping away beneath. Spike pulled himself back. Buffy stood in front of him in nothin' but her bra and jeans. Spike indulged in the sound of her heart racing, the way her breasts moved with her rapid little breaths as her hair spilled over her shoulders.

"Christ, Slayer."

Buffy grinned. She wrapped her arms around Spike's neck and her legs around his waist. One of her hands caressing his back, she kissed him again. Spike could feel Buffy's hand between his skin and the wooden beam, bracing her. The beam creaked and Spike pried his lips away from hers.

"What?" she panted, eyes working overtime to take in his expression.

"Don't want to bring the bloody Watcher's shop down around us." Spike couldn't say he wasn't tempted, but it was one of the less brilliant notions he'd ever had, and he'd had some winners.

"You are so paranoid," Buffy teased. "That could never..."

When Spike averted his eyes, Buffy scoffed.

"No." Buffy detached herself from Spike. "You're totally bluffing. That's never happened to you before."

"Happened to _us_ before. It was an abandoned lot, o'course, and it was only most of the house." Spike ran a hand over the beam. "But I don't exactly want to test these foundations at the moment."

"We..." Buffy's mouth moved without making any words, for a few moments. "We sexed a house into collapsing?"

Spike raised his eyebrow. "Only the once."

"Wow."

Spike circled her, prowling. Buffy didn't let him completely out of her sight for a second, tilting her head toward him as he stood at her back. "What can I say?" he whispered. Spike unhooked her bra, and she let it fall to the floor without protest. He could see her smiling right before he laid a kiss on the top of her spine. "We've always been good together—fightin', shaggin', all of it."

"True." Buffy reached behind her. Spike was caught off-guard when she unbuttoned his jeans, then spun about herself. "I think it's that we're so competitive." Her fingertips grazed his hip, her warmth nearly stinging his cold skin.

"Right." Spike smirked, then sucked in his cheeks. He bent down to slip his jeans off and toss 'em. "Only—"

"What?"

Spike unbuttoned her jeans, watching her shake 'em off her legs. The only piece of clothing between them now was a pair of purple lace panties—Well, and the necklace he'd given her. "I think I might be a bit more competitive than you, pet." Before she had a chance to react, Spike swept his arm along the table behind her, where Buffy'd picked up the jar of pearls before, and sent everything there crashing to the floor. In one fell swoop, he picked the Slayer up and laid her on the table, her legs dangling over the sides.

"You know, even for a vampire, you are _such_ a jerk."

Spike pressed his body all along hers, his thumb stroking the scars of vampire marks on her neck. He lowered his lips toward Buffy's, just barely staying out of reach. "You love it, sunshine. Admit it."

Buffy laughed, then wrapped her legs around his waist. She leaned up and kissed him, hard and desperate. "Fine." Buffy pressed her pointer finger into the center of Spike's chest. "You're damn lucky you're a cute vamp."

"Oh God. Don't let anyone else hear you call me a 'cute vamp,' you airhead!"

"See, I was gonna make an announcement in the papers."

"Cheeky bint."

Buffy stuck her tongue out at him. Spike, keeping his full weight on her, tickled her sides. The Slayer writhed beneath him, playfully slapping his arms.

"No! No tickling allowed!" she shrieked between giggles. Spike took a moment to just enjoy the laughter, to let themselves get lost in each other.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Buffy huffed, staring out the front window of the gallery. Her mom had gone off to meet with the guy she'd missed the appointment with when she was in the hospital. Since Buffy and Tara were the ones without class or work to worry about that morning, they were stuck on gallery duty so her mom didn't have to worry about the place. Tara was off sticking tags on things by the register while Buffy daydreamed. She was playing a game of "Anywhere But Here," where she and Spike were eating cotton candy as they walked along a boardwalk watching the water, at night. Even in her fantasies, even having seen him that once with the Ring of Amara, Buffy never really imagined Spike during the day. She surprised herself when it never bothered her.

"It'll be okay, you know."

Buffy spun to Tara, the only other person in the gallery right now. "Huh?"

"Wills and Giles, they're real good with the whole research thing. They'll figure out the Glowing Orb of Doom. And... and once we're done here, I'll help." Tara smiled, soft and comforting.

"I... yeah." Buffy held a hand to her forehead. "Sorry. Too much to think about all at once. Do you want help?"

"I've got this." Tara chewed her lip. She looked at a sheet of paper, then the tag in her hand, then a little wooden box. "You just take a break. Between classes and slaying and mom worrying and Dawn worrying, I can take care of price tags. Promise."

"Dawn worrying?"

"Yeah." Tara stuck the tag on the box, then wandered over to a huge golden frame on the wall. Her long pink skirt swished as she walked. "I mean, her eyes glowed freakin' green when she touched the orb. Kinda a priority, right?"

Buffy cringed. "So you guys saw that?"

"Oh, sweetie, of course we saw that. The old man down the block and across the street could see that." Tara tried to lift the gold frame, which was as wide as she was tall. Buffy sprinted over, taking one end as Tara took the other. "It's just that Xander's the only one who didn't keep quiet about it until Dawn was out of the room."

The girls lifted the painting, then set it down, as Tara guided, with the painted part facing the floor.

"I gotta say, don't think this is going to help with the selling of the art," Buffy said, fitting her hands on her waist.

"I have to check the signature and inventory number on the back," Tara mumbled. "I, um..." She walked back to the register, grabbed the paper she'd been looking at before, and kneeled next to the frame. "I get the other worrying, too. Like, um, mom worrying?"

"You do?"

"Yeah." Tara scribbled something on the paper. Then she wrapped her hands around her side of the frame again, and Buffy mirrored her. "My mom was sick, for a long time."

"I'm sorry," Buffy said. "I had no idea." They hung the frame back on its place on the wall. "What happened?"

"She died when I was seventeen."

Buffy's hand flew to her mouth. Why. Why did Buffy need to have all the social graces of a drunk Cordelia Chase? "I didn't... I mean, I thought... Well, I didn't think and..."

Tara scooped the page up from the floor. "No worries."

"No, Tara, I was being an insensitive dope."

"The point... I mean, what I was trying to say is that it's hard, when a parent doesn't feel well. And like there's nothing you can do." She returned to the register. "So maybe no one else can really understand the, um, slaying thing. And I know it's different for you ... because it's always different, but ... if you ever need..."

Buffy took wide steps to the register, where Tara was moving around some tags. Tara looked up, jumped when she saw how suddenly close Buffy was, and Buffy threw her arms around Tara. Tara returned the embrace, a comforting hand against Buffy's back. Buffy smiled.

XXXXX

Buffy couldn't tell if she was jealous of Dawn's relationship with their mom because she'd only been around for less than six months, or if it was the fact that she'd never been her mother's "punkin belly" even before the whole key situation. Buffy hadn't exactly gotten to spend a lot of time with Joyce when her parents were going through the pre-divorce screaming matches, and she'd been pegged as a bad apple once the school burned down. Then there was the whole mess of her mom discovering her Slayer-ness... Buffy guessed this was why Slayers didn't tend to dig the whole being connected thing.

At any rate, after making breakfast for her mom (and after Dawn taking credit for it), Buffy had to stop at the hospital to get one of the prescriptions double-checked. Her mom's headache wasn't going away, which made Buffy all kinds of uneasy. Spike tried to come with Buffy, was afraid Ben might try something. Buffy finally got him to go back up and get some sleep when she threatened to drop-kick Spike back into bed (and wouldn't give into his half-joking demands that, if she was going to get rough with him, she be wearing something leather or lacey).

In one of the hospital's many identical hallways, Buffy scowled down at the bottle of pills in her hand as she tapped her foot. She knew that she was just going to get blown off and was irritated in advance. Granted, the doctors didn't have the advantage of a vampire boyfriend from the future but—god her life was weird.

When a man in a white lab coat came into view, Buffy sprinted and stood in front of him. He flipped a paper on his clipboard and muttered something to a nurse next to him. Buffy cleared her throat. When he still didn't look up, she started talking:

"Hi. I'm here because of my mother, Joyce Summers."

"Check-in is at reception down the hall," the doctor grumbled without looking up. "Please go see them."

"See, it's about her pills," Buffy said. "I don't think they're working."

The doctor sighed. "Then you'll need to have her come in for an appointment to adjust them." The doctor motioned his head and he and the nurse walked around Buffy.

Buffy took a deep breath. "Must not slay doctors. Must not slay doctors. Must not..." She caught sight of the flash of blue down the hall. She couldn't be sure, because there were probably loads of people with short brown hair in scrubs at the hospital, but her gut was telling her she recognized him. Buffy glanced over her shoulder. No one was paying attention to her. She moved quick and light, the way she did when she had to count out how big a vamp nest was without them catching on to what she was doing. Spike and Giles were going to have a fit; but she was Risk Girl.

After creeping down the hall and down another corner, Buffy came up on a room. She could hear someone talking, whispering. She stuck the pills back into her jacket pocket. Keeping one hand to the wall, Buffy trying to take advantage of the Slayer hearing that could pick up on a vamp sneezing two blocks over. Something about a sister and...

When Buffy saw into the room in question, all ability to concentrate vanished. It was, in fact, Ben in there. And as to the who he was talking to... Well, it looked like a monk with the robe and everything, but judging by his skin he'd been deep-fried extra crispy. Buffy's demon senses were going totally insane.

"Yes, Master Ben. But Glorificus knows that it will benefit you both to find The Key as quickly as possible."

"And you can tell her that I've got my own life. I'm not going to be jerked around by my crazy sister."

Buffy's mouth hung open.

Sister.

Sister?

Glory was Ben's _sister?_

The deep-fried monk turned to Buffy and squeaked. Ben looked to her, too. The demon made a break for the door. Buffy stood in front of it, then grabbed it by the neck. The demon tried to talk, but Buffy only squeezed on its windpipe, lifting the demon in the air, edging into the room, and closing the door behind her. Had to be careful of collateral damage, after all.

"Maybe you haven't heard," Buffy said to the demon, "but this is a Slayer-run Hellmouth. You don't belong here."

"I belong wherever I can serve the powerful and shiny Glorificus," the demon said.

"Tell me about this Glorificus person," Buffy said to Ben, backing the demon to the window in the room, "or your buddy takes a five story express flight."

"Do it."

Buffy loosened her grip slightly. "Huh?"

"I don't care about my sister's scabby friends. I just want to work."

"I... Well, this is unexpected." Buffy felt something clamp around her hand, sharp, and she released the demon. "Ow!" When she looked over, her hand was bleeding. The demon scampered for the door, closing it after himself as he fled. "Damn it." Buffy checked her hand. The blood was coming out in a half-ring. "Ew! Your demon _bit_ me!"

"Sorry about that," Ben said. "Here, let me go and grab some bandages for it."

"Uh-uh." Buffy spun, grabbing Ben by the collar of his scrubs. "You're not going anywhere until you tell me everything you know about this Glorificus person."

"I'll grab the bandages and some coffee and we can talk," Ben said. "Trust me, I want less to do with her than you do."

Buffy let his scrubs go, looking him over. He had an honest face. But Wills had a policy on those honest faces—namely, that they were usually attached to liars.

"Oh no." Ben's face was panicked, and he looked like he couldn't breathe. "No!"

"What?" Buffy looked out the window behind her. "What? What is it?"

"Not now." Ben was stumbling toward the door, pulling at his shirt. "No, not now, not—"

Ben vanished.

Buffy didn't know how this lady had gotten in, but she was wearing blue scrubs with intense red lipstick and had wild blond curly hair. "Who're you?" the lady demanded.

"Buffy. The Vampire Slayer. And you are?"

"Glory. Hey."

Buffy felt her air trapped in her lungs. How... Ben must have left. And in his place...

"Glory?"

"Yeah. We did this part already." Glory curled her nose at Buffy, like Buffy was, well, that scabby demon thing that made for the door. "What's it to ya?"

Dawn.

It was Dawn. It was Tara's mind staying intact. It was no one having to die on a tower to take this bitch down.

"This is my Hellmouth.," Buffy said. "I want you out." Buffy took a step toward the god in scrubs and expected some kind of reaction. Instead Glory only examined one of her own curls, twirling it around her finger.

"Huh." Glory frowned, holding the curl up toward Buffy. "Are my ends splitting, or is that just me? You know, I'm a bit woozy. Haven't nibbled on a good brain in days. Hey!" She perked up, her smile wide and manic as she straightened up. "I've got a fun idea! You probably have some decent brain energy, being mystic by way of slayerhood and all." She took two steps toward Buffy as Buffy took one back, assessing the situation, trying to keep one moment ahead of the game. "Tell me, have you had any spells done on you lately? Adds zest!"

"Okay, first of all, ew." Buffy charged the hell god, landing a right hook on the woman's jaw. Glory's head snapped to the side, but she recovered before she blinked. Glory took Buffy by the throat, the way Buffy'd been doing with the minion not five minutes earlier, and raised her from the ground. Buffy's feet dangled as she tried to pry Glory's hands away from her neck. Even with all of her strength, Buffy wasn't doing a damn thing.

"Rude!" Glory pitched Buffy onto the hospital bed, the springs in the mattress breaking on impact. "Being a measly slayer is no reason to hurt a girl's feelings," Glory pouted. Buffy tried to shift away from the bed, but when she leaned on her right elbow, the pain was sharp and knocked her flat against the mattress. "Shh, shh." Glory pounced Buffy, straddling her. "Calm down, sugar. I'm not gonna kill ya." The god leaned forward, face to face with Buffy, whispering. "I'm just gonna suck your brain dry. That's all."

Buffy reached over to the bedside table, wrapped her fingers around the lamp, and smashed Glory in the side of the head with it. Glory only buried her hand in her wild hair, her expression insulted as she scoffed. Buffy used the moment's confusion to buck Glory off with her hips. Glory hit the door and immediately stood.

"Okay. Now I'm pissed."

Buffy leapt out of the bed, then in front of the window. "Fine. Then come and get me. Unless you want to go home and tell your crispy-fried minions how a slayer kicked your ass."

Glory charged; Buffy ducked. And Glory went sailing through the window. Buffy stuck her head out, just long enough to see people gathering around Glory's body. That wasn't going to be enough to keep her down. Buffy needed to get out of this hospital, pronto.

XXXXX

Buffy and Willow sat on the couch in the living room of Xander's new apartment. Xander shuffled in from the kitchen, his construction boots rough against the floor, and handed Buffy an ice pack. She smiled up at him. Willow helped Buffy peel her denim jacket off. Then Buffy stuck the pack on her sore shoulder. She hadn't been able to get her arm out of the L shape it was locked into since she'd left the hospital on account of her busted elbow, but the slayer healing was starting to do the trick.

"So what says Giles?" Willow asked. She picked up a book from next to her, something with fancy Latin and sketches of flowers and stuff.

"Giles told Anya to tell us to stay here until he can come and talk with us, see what's going on."

"And Spike?" Buffy winced, shifting in her seat and moving the ice pack down her bare arm to the inside of her elbow. It stung so bad that Buffy saw colors that weren't there for a minute.

"Something like, uh..." Xander stuffed his hands into his pockets. "'That barmy air'ead is gon' get 'erself killed,'" he said in a British accent that rivaled Buffy's for magnitude of awful.

"Aww."

"What?" Buffy and Xander both demanded, turning to Willow as she scanned the book.

"It's so cute," Willow said, turning a page. "How he worries about you."

"Yeah, yeah." Buffy moved the ice pack again, this time to the back of her neck to take care of her killer throbbing headache. "He's a honey like that." She couldn't help smirking.

"So what now?" Xander said, eyes bright, ready for an impending joke. "Keep in mind I have access to a sledgehammer and I know how to use it."

"We need everyone on this," Buffy said.

They did. They didn't know Dawn was The Key, sure. But that didn't keep them safe, not for much longer. If Glory had seen Buffy, if she followed her and saw her with anyone else... They needed to be aware, to know the extra reason Dawn needed protecting. And maybe even some witchy voodoo to keep the house on Revello Drive safe, too. Buffy loved that she and Spike could lean on each other, that Giles could help them figure it all out, but the Scoobies had won their battles together for a reason.

Xander nodded, then disappeared into the kitchen. Buffy extended her right arm, which cooperated with her at least a little. It was still more sore than a roundhouse kick to the gut, but it was healing.

"Any luck on the bright light ball from monksville?" Buffy rolled her neck, then pitched the ice pack onto the empty couch cushion to her left.

"Not yet. Tara and Giles and I think we're close, though. There's something about an unnamable demon thing-y. Might be what we're looking for."

They'd have to make sure they told them about Glory's name, or Glorificus or whoever, and about her scabby friends, too. And that they'd have to find a way to bring down a god, without any of them dying.

Just your average god with a manicure. No big.

"Angel is such a jackass," Xander muttered when he returned to the living room.

"Xander!" Wills gasped, finally looking up from her book.

"What are you talking about?"

"Angel! I call and tell him something that's pretty much un-killable is in town, and he tells me he's too busy with his own stuff to lend hand or fang to the cause."

"What a major poophead!" Willow shouted.

"You didn't have to call Angel," Buffy whispered. More people involved meant more people to protect, to keep track of, to make sure Glory didn't get to torture for Dawn's identity. "So can't handle the drama vamp bickering between the two of them right now."

"Well, how do you feel about drama Slayer bickering?"

"Alexander Harris," Wills said, her voice low and serious, "you didn't."

"They offered."

Buffy's eyebrows lowered as she looked from one of her friends to the other. "What did I miss?"

"Faith," Willow said. She slammed her book shut, stood, and tossed the book onto the couch where she'd been sitting. Wills stomped over to the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind her.

"Wait, why is Faith coming?" The only thing worse than worrying about someone to protect was worrying about someone who'd randomly decide to flip sides and help the Big Bad who, by the by, didn't really need the help.

"Angel said he's got stuff, but Faith was pretty much a free agent. And that if we needed her here..."

"Hey." Buffy smiled. "Maybe she won't go completely homicidal this time."

"That's what I like about you, Buffster. Ever the optimist."

XXXXX

"If she's a key," Tara said, "then what does she open?"

They were all sitting in Harris' apartment, cramped together like it was a school bus. They'd had to wait for Tara to get done with class, Rupes and Anya to get done at The Magic Box, the Dark Slayer to get into Sunnydale from LA, and Xander to drive Dawn home (at Buffy's insistence). Spike had done a couple of patrols around town once the sun set, then showed up here. His Slayer had obviously been waiting for him to show before she started speaking. And now here they were. Spike sneered when he realized the whole lot of 'em were looking at him.

"Hell dimension. Loony bin god wants to go home."

"So is she evil?" Lady Vengeance posed, blunt as ever. "I mean, this whole key energy business. Generally speaking, demon dimensions aren't opened by very pleasant things... Now if you're trying to get into the land of perpetual Tuesday, there's probably less of an issue there."

"She's not completely off," Faith said. She was sitting on the floor next to Spike, picking at her dark nail polish. She knew some of this already. About Glory at least. Spike hadn't mentioned Dawn when he'd used his future knowledge to talk her off the ledge when she came out of her coma. "I hardly think the road to a hell door is paved with bunnies."

"Well, thank you very much for those nightmares." Demon Girl crossed her arms and sank back into the couch, scowling at the leather-clad slayer. Harris had told Spike neither Anya nor Willow liked Faith much, at least in part 'cause she'd popped Harris' cherry.

"It's Dawnie," Tara protested with a whisper.

"The most evil thing she's ever done is steal Buffy's clothes," Willow added.

Spike looked to his Slayer, deep in thought as she glared down an unremarkable spot in the carpet.

"Well, actually..." Giles started. Spike turned to him, dared him to say one word out of line. Buffy wouldn't get to smack him upside the head first. "She is, according to Spike's recollections, pure energy. She was made human, innocent, to be protected."

"So that time I tried to use her as bait when Wilkins was still around?" Faith asked.

"Didn't really happen," Buffy whispered.

"And when Angelus tried to hurt her back in high school?" Willow added. Buffy only shook her head.

"So how long has... How long has the Dawnster been with us for, really?" Harris seemed about to come over queasy. He swiped his hand over his face.

"'Bout since we took down Adam," Spike said.

"And you've known?" Tara asked, tilting her head at Spike. "This whole time, you've known she'd be sent to us?"

"Uh, yeah." Spike scratched the back of his head. "Didn't want to muck things up too much. Wanted to make sure she got here alright."

"Who wants beer?" Xander asked, rising from his seat between Demon Girl and Wills on the couch. Everyone raised their hand except for Buffy, Rupert (who already was nursing some scotch), and Tara. "Me too." He wandered off.

"So how do we keep the kid safe?" Faith asked.

Willow raised her eyebrows at the Dark Slayer. "You're helping?"

"Yeah, Endora. Maybe you haven't heard. I'm reformed now." The way Faith held her fingers suggested a cigarette she wasn't holding. "Here to help. Whatever B needs me for, I'm here."

Harris returned with a six-pack of bottles, which he abandoned on the coffee table right before sitting next to his ex-demon again.

"How did you get those?" Rupert demanded. "Aren't you underage?"

"Same way I got the scotch. And don't we have bigger problems?" Harris countered.

Rupes tightened his lips in disapproval but didn't push the issue further. Spike didn't take responsibility for getting Harris the booze. Who had it hurt, really? "So," the Watcher said, "she knows your face now?"

"Yeah. And she beat it pretty good, too. You should've seen it, Giles. I didn't even make a dent. She didn't flinch. And she tried to suck my brains."

Spike, used to taking breaths he didn't need anyway, stopped taking in air altogether. His eyes involuntarily went to the sweet witch, hiding behind her curtain of brown hair. Red caught on way too quick.

"What?" the red-haired witch snapped.

"I..." Spike rolled his eyes, gritting his teeth and growling.

"Spike?" His Slayer's voice was meek. She reached over from the armchair she sat in, a small hand on his shoulder. He could feel the weight of it through the duster.

"Tara gets attacked by her godship. Takes her mind, for a bit. Red fixes it, but... It's unpleasant. Think Drusilla."

Tara gulped. "Oh."

"You were protectin' Dawn, pet," Spike said, jerking his head toward the soft-spoken witch. "Stood up to the hell god all by your lonesome. Steel set of bollocks on you."

"Alright." Xander stood. "That's it. Point me in her direction. I'm hitting her with a wrecking ball and solving this real quick."

"It's not that easy, Xander," Giles said. Spike didn't have to look up to know that the old librarian was rubbing his eyes in that frustrated, repressed little way. "They're... As far as we're aware, she's invulnerable at the moment. Attacking her now might just get us all killed, and put her that much closer to Dawn." Ben proved that was possible.

"Can't we just shove her back into her dimension?" Faith offered. "I mean, homegirl wants to go back to her neck o' the woods, I say we kick her ass back there."

"But how would that work?" Tara combed her hair behind her ears. "I mean, if Dawn's The Key, if she's the way to open the portal..."

"The blood," Anya and Spike said as one.

"Bleed the girl, all the way, The Nutty One gets home. The Lil' Bit would have to die." Spike picked at the rubber underside of his boot. "And if the portal opens, all the dimensions feed into each other. Last time... There was a dragon, for one thing."

"Could bring lots of things," Anya said. "Trolls, for instance. And they're hardly ever happy creatures."

"So we don't let her get Dawn," Faith said. "Roger that."

"I think I need to sit down," Wills said.

"Sweetie, um, you are."

"Huh. Good for me."

"It's late. Let's go, get some rest, reconvene once our headaches dissipate," the Watcher offered.

"I'll go grab a motel room," Faith said, hopping up from the floor. "You remember the place, right?"

"Yeah," Buffy and Xander both said.

If looks could spontaneously combust a person, Lady Vengeance would have set Harris ablaze with her glare.

"So, uh, who's gonna be the one to tell Joyce?" Xander said to change the subject.

"Oh god," Buffy muttered. "I didn't even think..."

"I'll take care of it," Giles said. "That way, if she has any questions, I can use Spike's notes or the council's resources to reassure her."

"Come on Spike," Buffy said, getting to her feet. "We've got to grab a couple of things. Um, blood from the butcher's, and some Icy Hot."

"Right you are, love." Spike rose as well. As the rest of the lot chattered their goodbyes, the Slayer kept her eyes lowered, always working. Spike reached forward, lacing his fingers in hers. "Slayer," he whispered. "That bitch won't know hell 'til we hit her. Trust me. Former Big Bad here and all. We'll win. I promise." He lifted their twined fingers to his lips, kissing her knuckles.

Buffy squeezed his hand. The entire rest of the room fell away to silence, except for the steady, strong sound of his girl's heartbeat.


	11. Chapter 11

_Dedicated to ElysiumPhoenix, Rinso, RAGAnne, and Taste Like Special._

Chapter 11

The lover Wiccas came by Revello Drive the next day. Spike, being sun-allergic and all, was the one to let them in. Everyone was off acting like things were normal. Even Dawn was at school, where Glory could just barge in at any time and snatch her if the idiot ever figured out what and who the sodding key was.

"You've been quiet," Tara said when she re-entered from the dining room. Her other half was taking care of the second floor. Spike sat on the steps, his hand clenched around the little velvet box. The witch held some incense by the door, then smeared something on the top of the door's frame. "Is everything alright? I mean, I know Buffy's freaking."

"Bloody right she is." Spike leaned back against the step. "So should all of us, pet."

"I think we're already on that. Willow's been up all night on her computer, looking into spells until she passed out." Tara muttered some Latin at the walls. Of course, if a hell god wanted in, it was likely she'd just huff and puff and blow the entire place down. "You're not nervous about, um..." She waved her incense stick toward the box cradled between Spike's hands. "I thought Dawnie was helping."

"Right, yeah, no. Bit's been helpin' me scheme. Just want to get the timing right. Right as I can get it around a hellmouth. Get some more news on Joyce, first, so she doesn't feel as overwhelmed." Some part of Spike would always flinch. He couldn't help remembering the night Cecily destroyed him with her rejection, the night he'd begged Dru for her gift. He knew Buffy wouldn't hurt him, and still... God. He was starting to sound like The Great Poof. Spike shook his head. "How about you, love? Holdin' up alright?"

"Yeah. I've really liked working at the gallery. If... If Joyce wants to, I'd like to work there, after college. I figure Anya works with Giles at The Magic Box, and that seems to work out alright enough."

"When there's not troll dimensions bein' poked, sure," Spike grumbled, remembering a night playing pool with Harris at The Bronze.

"What?"

"Nothin'." Spike's jaw slacked. "Bollocks!"

"What?!" Tara jumped, dropping her incense stick to the floor of the Summers home. She didn't even notice, her eyes trained on Spike. "What's wrong?"

"The bleeding troll hammer." Spike closed his eyes, remembering Anya's words from the last time they faced Glory. "Weapon of a god is good in a fight against a god."

"So... How do we get a troll hammer, exactly?" Tara crouched down to pick up her stick. "I'm thinking one of those isn't on Xander's construction site."

"Last time around, Red and Xander's bird summoned one by accident."

"A troll hammer?"

"A troll."

"So it was a spell?" The sweet witch chewed on her thumbnail.

"Think so." He was a bit preoccupied that day, mucking about with Harris' insecurities. Those who said fun couldn't be had with a chip just weren't creative. Spike cleared his throat. Right. Good now. He was a bad man back then. Soulless, and all that.

"Then we can get it again. It'll just take some time and a little luck to find the right thing."

"Lovely." Spike's lips twitched into a smile. He rose from the steps. "Time is it?"

Tara glanced at the watch on her wrist. "Almost one. Why?"

"Gotta go meet Dawn at The Magic Box."

"Now? But it's so..." Tara cringed. "Uh, sunny?"

"Right. Tunnels and a blanket should do me. Don't want to neglect her trainin'. Keep her fighting ready."

No one was gonna touch his girls, Spike decided as he watched Tara's even and unassuming gaze on him. No one was gonna touch a single one of his girls.

XXXXX

Buffy walked into Giles' apartment, closing the door behind her. None of the lights were turned on. The further in she walked, the more the echoing of her boots against the floor wigged her out. "Uh, hello? Giles? Oh Watcher my Watcher?" She dumped her backpack onto Giles' desk, which had loads of books on it, all of them open. Buffy glanced them over: gods of Roman myth, dimensions of heaven and hell, demonic portals. Giles was really pulling out all the stops on this one. Buffy laid her hand on one of the old dusty pages, thanks for Giles warming the center of her chest. She was lucky to have him, to have all of them.

"Yes, well, if you do hear anything..."

Giles emerged from his kitchen, the phone pressed to his ear. He nodded at Buffy, then put up one finger to let her know he'd be done with the call in a minute. Buffy took a seat on the armchair, the one she and Spike had shared during Willow's "will be done" spell. There was something nostalgic about that chair. Giles hung up and joined Buffy in the living room, sitting at his desk.

"How are you, Buffy?"

"Majorly tired. Making a mocha run with Wills later, though. How're you?"

"Out of Weetabix," Giles said with a grin.

"Don't look at me," Buffy said. "I keep my vampire stocked up on beef blood and Buffalo wings." When they were silent for a whole twelve seconds, Buffy's eyes wandered to the phone in the kitchen.

"Ah, yes, well, I've contacted some of my connections from..." Giles' lips tightened. "From my Ripper days. If they discover anything, they'll let me know at once."

"And do you have anything beyond zilch right now?"

"I'm afraid not. There are theories, but many of them vague. It's not much to go on, I'm afraid."

Buffy frowned, twirling around one of the simple gold rings on her right hand. "And the good news keeps on comin'."

"We have Spike now, Buffy. His foresight will be valuable, along with the skills the rest of us possess. No slayer has ever had as much support as you do at this very moment, even without the Watcher's Council at your side. If I have to go find this Glory with a flaming bat myself, I will do it."

Buffy immediately recalled having to stop Giles from getting killed by Angel—Angelus— after Jenny's death. Sometimes, she forgot how much Giles had been through, even just since arriving in Sunnydale. And Giles, as per usual, was right. They had a whole roster of potential ass-kickers, which now included double the slayers, double the fun.

"And slayers, they..." Buffy shook her head. She hadn't meant to say that out loud.

"What is it, Buffy?"

Buffy took a deep breath. "Giles, I feel like I get lost in the slaying sometimes." What she wanted to add was, with Faith back in town, she was reminded of the time when the two slayers were closest, Faith's lessons of want, take, have, how Faith didn't care about the guy she killed, how Faith was the reminder of how wrong things could go.

"I love my friends," Buffy said. "And Dawn and my mom and I guess college is okay enough and I like going for coffee and... and buying shoes and..." Another deep breath. She leaned forward. "It feels like, the better I get at slaying, the less I feel like a part of anything else, and it..." There was no way to describe it for anyone else to understand, except maybe Faith, but she had her own issues to work out without Buffy adding to the mess.

"Buffy, I... Slayers are strong, resilient, they can withstand so much in their pursuit of the greater good."

"I still want to be me. I don't want the slaying to be all I am. Maybe it's why Mom is so much closer with Dawn than she's ever been with me." Maybe it was the reason that something that should be so screwed up—getting bitten by a vamp—made her feel good in a really wrong way, as Angel had shown her, and Dracula and Spike had reignited really recently. It shouldn't make her feel good. And yet, the Slayer part of her... It was this huge piece of her life, and there was so little about that piece of herself that she really understood.

"Or like last year," she continued out loud. "When I fought with Wills and Xand. Sometimes I feel like they know me better than pretty much anyone, and then other times it feels like they're so distant from me, like we don't spend time together at all anymore, like they can't really understand what it's like to be a Slayer. And I don't want that. I don't want to feel that way, like I should be all about the slayage." Buffy stuck her fingers in her hair, pressing against the roots. "God, I'm so selfish."

"Listen to me. It is not selfish to want to feel for others. Your compassion is one of the very reasons you find the success that you do as a slayer, and as a young woman." Giles poked at one of the books on his desk. "Now, there's something we can do. A vision quest, in a desert not far from here. It might help you connect with your slayer half, to better understand your power."

"And leave Dawn vulnerable?"

"I'd hardly call the protection of two witches, William the Bloody, an ex-Vengeance Demon, and someone with pseudo military knowledge entirely unprotected. Unless..."

"What?" Buffy stood, pacing the floor. Giles had "But" face written all over him. Well, technically, "unless" face. Same diff.

"Unless you think it would help simply to discuss this with another slayer?"

Buffy shook her head. "Been there, thought that. Faith deals by way of overkill and getting with random guys. Not exactly healthy coping going on there." She stood in place, one hand on her hip. "I think. To be fair, I _was_ taught Psych by a secret government nutcase."

"Then perhaps Faith would benefit from this trip as well?"

Buffy shrugged. "I'll ask her. No guarantees when it comes to Faith."

XXXXX

Giles had set the whole slayer vision quest thing for the next weekend. Buffy decided, the night before, that she needed some normal girl time before she worried about her cosmic responsibility crap. So she and Spike decided to sneak away to The Bronze while Faith watched the house and the others researched at The Magic Box. Buffy had claimed she was taking Spike on patrols, which was half true, anyway. Luckily she wore halter tops and skirts to fight the forces of darkness on the daily, so no one even questioned her outfit.

Spike sat across from her as Buffy sipped on her pink lemonade. Spike's eyes were on the band onstage, some group of guys with heavy guitar stuff going on. He didn't even notice that Buffy was watching him the whole time, studying him. She had this terrible sinking feeling that everything that was actually managing to somehow go alright in her life right now would go to hell just like the rest. She wanted to appreciate the moments like this, no matter what happened. Just as Buffy was beginning to wonder when she'd decided that she was going to let everything fall apart on her, Spike finally turned her way.

"What?"

"Huh?"

"You're gawkin' at me, Summers. 'fraid I'm gonna run off with one of the blokes in the band?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. She yanked her straw from the glass and dumped it on the table. Then, Buffy chugged the rest of her pink lemonade like it was beer, Spike raising an eyebrow at her.

"C'mon!" Buffy said. She hopped off her barstool, grabbing Spike's hand. He laughed, letting the Slayer drag him onto the dance floor.

Buffy stopped short. Spike knocked into her, grumbling something in British speak, but he stopped when Buffy started to sway her hips with her back against his front. Spike's hands slid down her sides, finally settling on the black lace of her skirt. Buffy smiled and closed her eyes, losing herself to the rhythm of the music. She flashed back, for all of ten seconds, to another night she'd danced here. She could sense a vampire nearby, which was pretty common at The Bronze, and then she'd heard that guy talk about someone getting bitten. It was the first time she'd heard Spike, and then he watched her take down the minion in the alley.

Buffy laughed, twirling around. Spike's dark blue eyes skimmed over her whole body as the two of them continued to move, his hands on her hips, hers curled around his shoulders. It was weird how far they'd come in three years. Granted, it'd been more for Spike but... If someone had told her the night of the Parent-Teacher fiasco that she'd be dancing with Spike at The Bronze, Buffy would've labeled them a total whackjob. Buffy combed her fingers through his slicked-back hair, remembering the way it'd be loose curls in the morning, how peaceful he looked while he slept. It was nice, not only having the big life-or-death type of stuff, but these small things, too. Normal, almost. As normal as Slayer/vampire relationships ever got.

"Spike?"

"Yes, precious?" He swept some hair away from her face. His touch was always so gentle when they were quiet like this. They could do both: fierce fighters, sweet lovers. Hell, sometimes the lines blurred and things got interesting.

"Spike, I love you. You know that, right?"

Even though she was struggling with the whole Dawn/Mom jealousy thing, the whole wishing she could be a normal daughter and live up to what her mother wanted for her, even with the nagging feeling that being a Slayer meant losing warm and fuzzy feelings and the fear that she'd lose one final battle because she'd get tired of life handing her lemons and would give up like Spike had told her about, Spike brought something human out in her.

Talk about ironies of ironies, huh?

"And I love you, Buffy." Spike tilted his head at her. The song the band was playing had gotten less upbeat, and the two of them were still swaying together even if they were way slower. "Waited several lifetimes over for you, dinn't I?'

Buffy pulled his head down to hers, kissing him, their tongues pushing against each other as she really didn't give a damn about who was watching. When she needed to take a breath, Buffy pressed herself up against his chest, resting her cheek on his soft black t-shirt. His coat surrounded the both of them, warm and safe, the smell of the leather and cigarettes soothing. He stroked her hair as they danced like this, losing track of time. It was the middle of the next song before Buffy realized it'd gone way up-tempo again. She took a step back from Spike, staring up into his eyes. They stood in place.

"I need you to protect them. I'm counting on you, Spike. I need you to promise me... I need you to promise we'll protect them."

Spike took her hands in his, squeezing her fingers. Everyone else danced around them, their movements as quick as the beat of the music. Buffy felt, in that moment, like she could hear each and every one of their heartbeats, though it easily could've been her heart thumping away. It felt like she and Spike were separate from them all, in their own little bubble.

"'Til the end of the world." Spike's lower lip twitched and he hung his head, looking to his boots. When his eyes found Buffy's again, something in his expression, in the way he was fighting back showing something to her, told Buffy she'd hit one of those future-type nerves again. "Even if that happens to be tonight."

Buffy kissed Spike on the cheek. "Well, the world can't end tonight."

Spike lifted his scarred eyebrow. (Buffy made a note to ask how that happened some time.) "It, uh, it can't?"

"Uh-uh." Buffy pointed down to her boots. "I paid a fortune for these! I want to wear them more than once."

Spike giggled.

"Now come on," Buffy said, dragging him toward the bar. "I'm getting you some spicy Buffalo wings. My treat."

"Bloody right, your treat," Spike muttered. "You still owe me fifty quid for..."

"I swear to god, Spike, if you bring up the slime demon and your coat one more time, I will kick your ass all the way back to Revello Drive."

"Demon-run dry-cleanin' ain't cheap, pet."

"Oh, what, and getting M'Fashnik guts on my designer clothes purchased at affordable prices is somehow a dream for me?"


	12. Chapter 12

_Dedicated to Taste Like Special, RAGAnne, and Rinso for the continued reviews and support._

 _Pay close attention to details in this chapter, especially in that last scene. You may or may not find it interesting to, at some point, revisit the post-Adam Slayer dream in Make the Clock Reverse._

 _Foreshadowing. Foreshadowing everywhere._

Chapter 12

Spike was in The Magic Box taking care of gettin' the place closed up for the night. Since Giles had the slayers out of town, they'd all agreed, with Glory around and likely to use the shop for magic dodads if she saw the need, it wouldn't hurt for him to be there. Harris and the witches were helping Dawn with her homework back at the Summers' house, where Spike and Anya would be headed once she decided she'd counted the till enough times. Spike sat on the table, a cigarette propped in his mouth as he flipped through a book of Latin scribblings. Weapons against sin this, Dagon Sphere that...

Dagon Sphere? That was the—

Spike's thought was interrupted when the door to The Magic Box broke from its hinges and crashed inward. Three ugly-faced Lei-Ach demons walked in like they owned the place. Spike slipped into game face and thudded to his feet all at once, looking to Demon Girl at the register. She secured the cash in its drawer before she started to back up.

"Are they poker buddies of yours?" she asked.

"A Lei-Ach? Stupid gits couldn't tell a Full House from a Royal Flush if their lives depended on it, pet." He put himself in front of Anya, remembering his promise to his Slayer: Keep 'em safe. He had this. "Shove off," he shouted at the Lei-Ach. They continued advancing. Spike shrugged. "Was worth a shot."

Spike lunged, tackling one of the Lei-Ach to the ground. He decked it in the sores a couple of times. When Spike saw the others making their way to Anya, he snapped his demon's neck and jumped to his feet. Spike roared, and the other two turned to him. While they were distracted, Lady Vengeance picked up a nearby urn of something or other and smashed it over the head of one of the Lei-Ach. Spike rushed them, but the pair ran off toward the training room out back, and Spike listened as the back door to the shop closed. He put a hand on Anya's shoulder.

"You alright?"

"Spike!" Anya pointed behind him.

Spike spun about, his duster sweeping the floor. That was when he noticed the small fire in front of the table. He yanked one of the blankets he used to travel in daylight from the table, slapping it against the book his still-lit cigarette had fallen onto in the mess of everything. Once the flames died, Spike frowned down at the ash-covered book.

"Well, Rupes isn't gonna be happy about this, is he?"

"Who the hell sent those Lei-Ach?" Anya demanded. "And they broke the door!" she shrieked, gesturing wildly. "What are we going to do about the door?!"

Demon Gal was right. Lei-Ach were marrow-suckers. Had about as much brains as a Fyarl demon. All about the brute strength. Made for good minion-types. They were likely to be in funeral homes or somethin'. Or hospitals, maybe. Scavengers, nowadays. Around sickly types.

Hospitals.

Ben.

Glory.

Sod.

XXXXX

Buffy and Faith had been wandering around in the desert for some time now. They'd left Giles with his hokey pokey and magic squash or whatever. A cougar and a wolf had appeared just as the sun was starting to set, and the slayers were still tracking them.

"I've seen this place before," Buffy said. All it was was sand, and it was dark out now when she was used to sunlight, but something about it...

"From the slayer dreams, yeah," Faith said. Her thumbs rested in the pockets of her jeans. Buffy thought that she had to be cold out here with just a tank top and jacket. Buffy was wearing a fuzzy turtleneck and she was chilly. But Faith didn't even mention it. "Kinda from the greatest hits."

"Yeah." Buffy played with her hair tie, waiting for the animals to just pick a spot for epiphany-having already. "Faith, why did you come back? And for something that pretty much amounts to some good ol' Summers family drama?"

Faith laughed, keeping her focus straight ahead. "To be fair, B, your family drama has reached dimension-tearing levels here." She paused, tilting her head at Buffy and narrowing her eyes. "And Xander said you needed me. Didn't give it a lot of thought. Am I gettin' you don't want me to be here?"

"No, that's not... Thank you, for being here." Buffy sighed. Faith feelings were complicated. Buffy felt kind of guilty that she didn't do more to help Faith when she got to Sunnydale the first time, when she killed that guy. She was pissed that Faith had turned on them, had almost killed Angel, had almost gotten Buffy killed along with everyone else. And yet... No one else could understand on a deep-down level the burden of slayerhood. Plus there were the layers of awkward about their history together. Ergo, complicated.

"Yeah, well. You know me." Faith ran her hand over her long, loose hair. "All about the good deeds."

"Faith..."

The cougar and the wolf came to a stop. A bonfire had been lit, with a collapsed tree trunk next to it. The slayers shared a look between them and then re-focused toward the fire. The spirit animal thingys were gone, and only the fire and tree trunk remained. Buffy and Faith approached the fire and sat on the trunk. Buffy rested her hands on either side of herself, leaning away from the heat. Faith leaned forward, folding her hands and staring at the heart of the fire.

XXXXX

Before he took Anya to the Summers' home, Spike had found his notebook with the stuff about the future in Rupert's hidden drawer under the register at The Magic Box. It'd been a couple of hours. Joyce and Dawn had both gone up to bed. Harris and his bird had gone home, as had the lover Wiccas (after re-securing the protection spells they'd put up around the place). He'd reviewed what he'd written when he'd first been popped back here by the Powers That Bugger. It wasn't a whole lot to go on.

Now he was trying to jot down the things they'd used against Glory the last time. So far, he had "troll hammer" written with "Red + Demon Girl" next to it, and "Dagon Sphere" with "B-Bot" next to it under that. He really, really hoped the Bot wouldn't be necessary. It wasn't something he was exactly proud of, or wanted to have to drudge up, especially with Harris and Rupes finally not giving him a hard time about being with Buffy.

"Tea?"

Spike snapped to attention on the couch, fumbling to close the notebook. The eldest Summers stood in her bathrobe and fuzzy slippers, a China cup in each hand. "Joyce. What are you still doin' up? Not feelin' well?"

"Not really, no." Joyce sighed, approaching Spike and holding one of the cups out to him. He nodded thanks, tossed the notebook next to him on the couch, and accepted the tea. "The new pills the doctors have me on help the headaches more, but I'm up vomiting every other night." Joyce curled up in the armchair, taking a sip of her beverage. "The tea helps. Willow and Tara brought it by one day."

"Yeah." Spike scratched the back of his neck. "This do-gooder lot is helpful like that."

"I'm also doing some overtime mother worrying."

"Dawn did her homework." Spike sipped some of the tea. Tasted pretty awful, though he appreciated the hint of burba weed that was familiar to him. "Should be off to her beddy-bye."

"No, um... Buffy, I mean. Being off in the middle of the desert for whatever slayer ritual Ru... Mr. Giles has her involved with." She sipped her tea, biding her time. "They didn't say when they'd be back?"

Spike shook his head, setting his tea on the coffee table. "Hard to schedule out when the Powers That Be will impart their wisdom. They can take care of themselves. I'm sure they'll be fine."

Joyce fell silent, sipping on her tea a couple of times as her gaze wandered around the room. Finally, she stared at the notebook next to Spike. "Writing love poems?" Joyce raised her eyebrows, smirking even as she finished off the last of her tea.

"Love... uh, no! Psh, love... Do I look like the poet type?" Spike rolled his eyes for good measure then, when Joyce didn't answer, began to pick at the polish on his nails. Joyce didn't pick up on the big things sometimes, like bein' mother to the Slayer for instance, but damn if she didn't have the occasional good instinct. "Just some notes I wanted to make. About demons, and such. Help Buffy, if I can."

Joyce opened her mouth, placed her cup on the side table, and grinned.

"What?"

"The way the two of you watch out for each other, how much Dawn looks up to you... I'm happy to have you around, Spike."

Spike licked his lips. "Bit looks up to me, does she?"

"I got a call from her school principal the other day. Apparently she was defending another student and called the bully in question a 'gormless tit.' I hardly think she picked that one up from _Sabrina the Teenage Witch._ "

"Sorry."

"I've gotten calls about worse with Buffy." Joyce grimaced. "That Principal Snyder was especially awful, though."

"If it makes you feel any better," Spike said, "he got eaten by the mayor when he turned into a giant demonic snake on graduation day." Spike picked up his notebook, flipping it around in his hands to keep himself busy.

"Well, I would never wish death on a man..."

Spike pursed his lips and raised his eyebrow.

"What?"

"Don't tell me you've never wished a vamp'd get a hold of your ex." Spike couldn't deny the thought crossing his mind once or twice. Berk never came to even check on the girls when Joyce died last time 'round. Spike shivered, the way he did any time Joyce's death came to mind while he was looking at her, guilt clawing at his gut, like there was nothin' he could do to save her.

Joyce tightened her lips and glanced off to the side.

"Why don't you try 'n get some sleep?" Spike said. "I'll stay up a bit longer, see if the Slayer comes home before Dawn's gotta get to school. I promise, anything goes wonky you'll be the first one I wake. I'll make a huge ruckus and everythin'."

Joyce rose and walked toward Spike. He thought, for a moment, it'd be to take his cup away. Instead, she kissed his forehead. Spike was a little taken aback at how easily a woman more than a century younger than him always managed the maternal touch.

"You get some sleep, too, Spike, alright?"

"Sure."

Joyce turned and started for the stairs. She got as far as the living room's threshold before Spike snapped to his feet and cleared his throat.

"Joyce."

She turned to him, her expression serious and searching.

"I promise, you don't have to worry about 'em. No matter what. Your girls'll be just fine."

Joyce smiled, then continued up to bed.

XXXXX

Buffy was starting to nod off when she saw a figure on the other side of the fire. She stirred herself awake. At first, from the way the long dark coat moved, Buffy almost thought it was Spike. As the fog of exhaustion lifted from her a little, she realized her mistake. Faith jumped to her feet, stake in hand. Buffy reached out, grabbing Faith by the forearm. But by the way Faith was staring, Buffy thought she'd figured it out, too.

"I know you," Faith muttered.

"You're a slayer. The Slayer Spike... You were in my dream," Buffy said. Faith sat back down beside her.

"So, what?" Faith said. "We're havin' some kind of freaky deaky group slayer dream again?"

"This is the form, baby girl," the Slayer with the afro and Spike's coat said. "I'm the guide."

"Points to Giles," Faith muttered out of the corner of her mouth. "I thought for sure he'd gotten one knock to the brain too many with the vegetable rattle in the desert thing."

"We, um..." Buffy took Faith's hand, suddenly a little wigged by talking to the mystery guide taking the form of the dead girl who came a couple of decades before them. If things had fully gone as prophesized with The Master, it might have been Buffy's form talking to Faith.

"Look," Faith said, squeezing Buffy's hand. "We've got questions 'bout being the Chosen Two. Thought maybe you could give us answers. That true?"

The Slayer nodded.

"Um..." Buffy took a breath. "Slayers don't work with people a lot, right? And I've got these friends and a family and a boyfriend. I'm just afraid... I'm afraid being the Slayer might take them away from me."

Faith broke her hand away from Buffy. "I don't even know that I can have friends," she whispered. "Forget about the mom, kid sis, and boy toy."

The 70's Slayer nodded, folding her arms across her chest. Her torso was still mostly covered by the flame of the bonfire. "You're afraid the Slayer half means losin' your humanity."

"Does it?" Faith asked. She clasped her hands together, leaning forward, toward the fire.

"You are full of love. You love with all of your soul. It's brighter than the fire ... blinding. That's why you pull away from it."

Her full attention laid on Faith suddenly. "Love is pain, and the Slayer forges strength from pain. Love... give..."

Now she turned to Buffy. "Forgive. Risk the pain." She came around the fire, only enough that it was no longer blocking her. That was when Buffy noticed it: The Slayer's hand was on her very pregnant stomach. Could slayers even _get_ pregnant? When did one live long enough to even try? And why was she showing up pregnant this time? She hadn't been in any of the slayer dreams. "It is your nature. Love will bring you to your gift."

"Huh?" Buffy and Faith said together.

"It's simple, girls. Love leads you to your gift."

"I don't understand." Buffy's nose crinkled. "Am I getting a gift?" Maybe it'd be something to help fight Glory. Or maybe she'd already gotten it; maybe the gift was Dawn.

"Or are we givin' somethin' to someone else?" Faith added.

The Slayer form retreated behind the flame again, so her stomach was no longer visible. Now she concentrated on Faith, like Buffy wasn't even there. "Death. Death is your gift."

Faith's face twisted up. "Death?"

"Is your gift."

Faith's eyes lowered, like something had just occurred to her.

"Do you mean... Like, slaying?" Buffy tried. She had no tolerance for the cryptic. "We kill lots of demons."

The Slayer didn't even pretend to hear Buffy, still focused all the way on Faith despite the fact that Faith was staring at the sand under them. "Little Miss Muffet is still countin' down from 7-3-0, baby girl" the Slayer said. "You just need to listen. You already know."

And, before Buffy could say another word, the guide was gone.


	13. Chapter 13

_For Taste Like Special, Rinso, and RAGAnne._

 _This was originally two chapters, but I decided to smoosh it all into one. Also, there's some fun Spuffy smut times here. A little blood, but there's a heads up in the text before it happens. See ya Thursday!_

Chapter 13

The Niblet had chocolate sauce all over her lips. Spike had taken her for ice cream, just to keep her out of everyone else's hair now that they knew what the Dagon Sphere was called and could actually look into it. Spike shoved his hands in the pockets of his duster, right hand meeting the Dagon Sphere and the left the ring box. In retrospect, it was a bad idea to take a Summers woman out for sugar, and he was realizing that as Dawn chattering away at a million miles a minute about her friend Janice and her new earrings and some tater tot fiasco. Spike was busy keeping his eyes everywhere, lookin' out for any threat to the girl, supernatural or otherwise. He was getting antsy; Buffy, Faith, and the Watcher were still out chantin' with crystals or whatever.

"And anyway, Janice thinks that Chris is _totally_ gonna ask her out but I heard that he's actually been making out with Britney in the basement and I don't know how to tell Janice 'cause she totally flips when people tell her bad news and—"

"Shh." Spike held up a finger as the two of them stopped in place. He'd definitely heard something, but it was slight and he didn't know where it'd come from.

"What's your malfunction?" Dawn held one hand to the strap of her school bag on her shoulder. She was looking at him the way most people looked at Dru.

"Nothin'. Keep quiet a minute, would you?"

Dawn's eyebrows shot up, but she did as he asked. Spike tilted his head, listening. The heartbeats that didn't belong to Dawn were faint, and had a different rhythm than a human's. He tried to narrow it down, but before he could Spike was tackled from the side. Before he could even shout out "balls," the thing's claws were wrapped around his throat trying to pop his sodding head off. Spike vamped, kicking what he recognized as one of the Lei-Ach demons in the gut and sending him flying to the sidewalk.

Spike leapt to his feet, his first priority getting his eyes on Dawn. She was facing off with a Lei-Ach of her own. Spike made a move to intervene, until Dawn kneed the demon in the middle of its body and it doubled over. Then she slipped the back from her shoulder, wielding it like a weapon. Spike couldn't help but smile, proud that the girl could handle herself in a brawl after their training.

The first Lei-Ach came at Spike again and, without looking, he reached his hand out. Given how fast the demon had been rolling at him, Spike's hand had no trouble at all going through its chest. He wrapped his fingers around the thing's heart and yanked it out, tossing the now useless organ in the street as the Lei-Ach dropped like a sack of hammers. Once Dawn had gotten a few good thwaps in on her Lei-Ach with the bag, Spike decided that was enough real-world practice for the day and glided over. He snapped the thing's neck and tossed its body onto the nearest lawn.

"I just took on a demon!" Dawn squealed, clapping her hands together and hopping.

"Yeah. You did good, Bit." Spike put a hand (the one not dripping with Lei-Ach fluids) on Dawn's shoulder, nudging her to continue toward the house.

"I can't wait to tell Buffy!" Dawn continued as she pretty much skipped down the sidewalk.

"You can't tell Buffy," Spike grumbled, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a cig. He lit up.

There was no tellin' what the Lei-Ach had been sent by Glory to do. They didn't seem interested in him or Anya at The Magic Box. It was possible that they were after Buffy, or Dawn, but there was no way of telling, really. They might have only attacked him and Dawn now to avenge the one that Spike had wasted the day before. He hoped (sort of) that they were after Buffy, that Glory didn't want to be lowered to challenge the Slayer herself. Even with trainin', even though Dawn could do a fair bit to handle herself in a fight, Buffy was going to be able to handle demons much better any day of the week. He hoped Glory still saw Dawn as unimportant. If not, he'd have to go and try to take out the bitch himself, impervious skin or no.

"Spike!" Dawn shrieked.

"What?"

Dawn scoffed. They were in front of the Summers' home now, Spike taking a few puffs on his cigarette. "I said 'Why can't I tell Buffy?' Then she'll let me come on patrols with you guys!"

Spike raised his eyebrows at her.

"It's possible," Dawn said. "I mean, Willow said herself that they weren't much older when they went on patrols."

"Platelet, are you tryin' to get me staked?" Spike took one last puff, pointed toward the house with his cigarette, then stomped it out. "Now get inside before your mum hears you've been gettin' in scraps, a'right?"

Dawn smirked. "Wuss." She sprinted inside, the sugar obviously still alive and well in her system.

"Wuss," Spike muttered, dragging his feet after her. "Not a wuss. Bossy little bint. Just like her sister." He walked into the house pouting, then shut the door.

"Look, can it wait?" Buffy was standing in the living room with Dawn and Faith. "We've gotta run some things past Giles, and I am in major, major need of a shower."

Dawn, whose eyes had been all lit up, shrunk back into herself, clearly crestfallen, and nodded.

"Honey," Spike said, "you're home."

"Spike." Buffy walked to him, kissing him gently. When she pulled back, her gaze lingered on his neck. "What the hell happened to you?" Her fingers poked at the hollow of his neck. Spike was pinned between the Slayer and the front door.

"Nothin' happened. What're you on about?"

"Spike," Dawn whispered from the living room. He stole a peek at her and Dawn mimed choking with her own hands wrapped around her throat.

"I think Blondie's talkin' about the huge bruises there, Spikey," Faith chimed in. "So either you were necking with some other California girl or facin' some seriously pissed off demon."

Spike rolled his eyes. "Look, it was two demons. And it wasn't a big deal. Everthin's fine, Buffy, alright?" He held her arms, which separated her prodding fingers from his wounds. Honestly, Spike was a little ashamed that a Lei-Ach had made that much of a mark on him. "They're dead, I'm not, and by half passed the evidence'll be gone. We can talk about it later."

Dawn giggled. All three of them turned to her as she bounced in place.

"What's up with the pipsqueak?" Faith demanded, smirking.

"I totally kicked demon ass. It was awesome."

"Dawn?" Buffy spun to Spike, who was suddenly not real keen on how close he was to the Slayer. Her eyes were all fire and anger. Spike hoped she didn't have a stake on her. But, knowing Buffy... "You took _Dawn_ with you to fight demons? Are you insane, or just an idiot?"

"No. I took Dawn for ice cream. We got jumped on the way back."

 _Glory?_ Buffy mouthed.

Spike kept tight-lipped.

"B, maybe it's not such a bad thing. Girl can apparently take care of herself, when push comes to shove."

Buffy held her hand to her face. "Faith, could you go help Dawn find her math textbook, please?"

Faith's eyes flicked to Spike, took in his expression. She nodded. "Sure thing. I'll head back down in two shakes to help tell the tweed man what's up." Faith motioned her head toward the stairs. "C'mon, kid. I'll tell you about the time I wrestled the alligator."

Frowning, Dawn followed Faith up the stairs. In the silence, Spike picked up on the hushed tones of Rupert speaking to Joyce in the kitchen, but he couldn't make out what they were saying.

"It was two Lei-Ach demons," Spike whispered, never knowing when Joyce might pop in. "The Vengeful One and I got attacked by three in The Magic Box last night, two got away and came after me tonight."

"So you think they were after you? And does it have anything to do with Glory?"

"They suck marrow. Not unheard of they might be around a hospital, and Ben might've run into 'em."

"So you think Ben is helping Glory now? I got the impression he didn't want anything to do with his sister."

Spike huffed. This Ben/Glory spell sucked. In the interest of not shouting _Ben is Glory, Glory is Ben_ for the next hour... "They're family. Bond like that, not much can come between 'em."

"Why would they want you?"

"Thanks, pet," Spike groaned. He weaseled away from the door and into the living room. "You sure know how to make a bloke feel real special."

"Spike. You don't..." Buffy took a deep breath. "You don't think she knows about you and me, do you? That she'll try to hurt you to get to me?"

"There wouldn't be a point even if she did," Spike said. He paced, his boots falling heavy on the floor. "Truth is, she probably got pissed off that you stood up to her but didn't want to be bothered with you herself so she sent some hit men. Hey, here's an idea. Maybe they just randomly wanted to go after the Slayer, right?"

"Maybe." Buffy chewed her thumbnail. "I just hope... I hope she doesn't know. About Dawn."

"By this point, I think she's too busy with shoes and minions. Really." Spike closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around Buffy. "At any rate, I'll kill anything that comes our way and tries to hurt any of your lot." Spike bit his lip, knowing this next part might hurt but it'd at least get her swingin' again. "Maybe I'll even let you kill one or two."

"Hey!" Buffy punched him in the gut. Not at full force, but enough to double Spike over. "Let's not forget who the Slayer is here."

"An' I'm the Slayer of Slayers."

"Yeah. Says the guy whose ass I kicked when he came after me with the Gem of Amara."

"Hmm. And there was our first fight. Remember that?" Spike licked his teeth and started moving toward her, slowly. "You were so powerful. So full of fire."

Buffy grinned when he reached her. Spike pressed a hand against her lower back, connecting her body to his. "Yeah?"

Spike brought his face just shy of hers. "Feel better?"

Her hand gripped the collar of his duster as she kissed him, hard. They were interrupted by a very familiar and very British clearing of the throat and separated. Buffy rubbed at her lips, glancing over her shoulder with the expression of a guilty schoolgirl. Rupert and Joyce stood in the doorway of the dining room, each holding a cup.

XXXXX

Between the full house and the whole figuring out what the hell "Death is your gift," meant by the time Buffy got to bed Spike had already passed out. She'd smiled when she saw him, still warm from her shower to get the sand and ash out of her hair, and just crawled into bed next to him and fell asleep. Then they were busy the whole next day, between classes and whatever else. Finally, after Spike left his notebook with new info at The Magic Box for Giles and the Scoobies to look over, the two of them went on patrol.

Buffy would be lying if she said she wasn't freaked by the idea of Glory sending demons after them. They didn't have confirmation, but it made sense. Glory wouldn't want a slayer in the way of her plans, especially when she was looking for the key that she hopefully still thought was a cute little energy orb or something. But if Buffy stayed out of Glory's way for the moment, it might buy them a little time.

In the meanwhile, Spike and Buffy had started something the night before that Buffy had been waiting all day to finish. When they'd wandered Restfield for a bit and Buffy noticed a nice, big, abandoned-looking crypt, she'd suggested to Spike that they check in there. He no sooner had the door shut behind them than Buffy was kissing him and pulling off his duster.

Now she was laying on Spike's duster, a soft barrier from the cold stone floor. He was running his tongue between her folds. Buffy's breaths were so shallow she was a little dizzy. Every sensation was heightened: The clean smell of the stone around them, his cold hands on the warm skin of her thighs, the tickle of the skirt pooled around her waist. She cried out as she felt all of her muscles tighten then release, her whole body buzzing. After a couple of deep breaths, Buffy opened her eyes again. Spike was laying on his side next to her, his face propped in his hand. He reached out, fingers grazing her shoulder before kissing her there.

"Y'alright?" he whispered.

Buffy grinned. "That's a word for it."

Spike's eyes got a devilish glint in them. "Wore you out already, did I?"

Buffy laughed. "Please. I don't wear out that easy."

She ran her hand down Spike's side. When she got down to his hip, she reached around and squeezed his ass through his jeans. Spike bit his lip in response. Then he caressed her breast through her shirt, giving her the once-over. Buffy sat up suddenly, flipping all her loose long hair over her shoulder. Spike moved without a sound, pulling the shoulder of her long-sleeved black shirt to the side and kissing the skin he'd just exposed.

Buffy held her breath. She wanted to ask, but it made her all awkward and he'd probably wig and make her feel worse.

"What's wrong, love?" he whispered against her neck.

"Nothing. It's fine."

Spike wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. Nothing ever made Buffy feel safer than when he held her like this.

"I..." Buffy glanced at Spike over her shoulder. He was watching her, being all observant and attentive and making it more difficult. She turned to face the wall. "I was going to ask you..." Buffy shook her head. "Forget it. It was dumb."

"Yes."

Buffy's mouth hung open as she tilted her head toward him again. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, not the... Not the dumb part, Slayer. The... Whatever you were gonna ask, yes, alright? You never have to be afraid to ask."

"Yeah, I do. Like I said, it was stupid." Buffy broke away from his arms, jumping to her feet. She ran her hands over her hair. "Um, we should go... We should patrol and whatever."

"Buffy." Spike got to his feet, too, walked toward her, and grabbed Buffy by the hands. "What's got your knickers in a knot, huh?" He leered at her. "Well, not that your knickers are much of a problem right now, are they, pet?"

Buffy slapped his chest. "Stop that!"

"Stop what?" Spike rubbed where she'd hit him.

"Stop the whole being a pig and making me angry to get me out of my head." Buffy pouted. "It's annoying."

Spike crossed his arms.

"Look, it's nothing. I was going..." She looked to her feet. "I was gonna ask you to bite me, alright?"

"Bite you? What is this, some sort of flirtin' with death trip? 'Cause I'm not gonna—"

"And _this_ is why I said nothing. Let's just forget it and go."

"Wait." Spike grabbed Buffy by the arm. "You're serious. Why?"

Buffy knew bringing up Angel and the time he almost killed her was a bad argument to go to, even if the bite felt way good. No guarantee this argument would work either, of course. "You know when Drac bit me?"

"Sure. Set the ponce on fire for that. What about it?"

"I... You and I did some stuff after. And it felt really good. And I trust you. I just..."

Spike took Buffy's face in his hands, his expression so serious that it startled her a little. "I need you to think about this. Are you really certain, love?"

Buffy nodded, once, barely.

Spike grunted in return. He took her by the hand and led her back to his coat on the floor, where the both of them sat. "You want me to stop, at any point, tell me an' I will, a'right? And I'm not doin' much. Don't wanna hurt you."

Buffy nodded again. She pulled her hair aside and tilted her head, exposing her neck. Spike shook his head. He shifted to sit behind her again, like he'd been before she said anything. He kissed her neck, then leaned forward, pressing his weight against her. Buffy followed the movement of his body, shifting onto her hands and knees. She felt her skirt pooling around her waist again, heard him unzipping his pants. When he slipped inside her split from behind, she held her breath, her heart racing. Spike lined up on top of her, kissing her ear, then her neck. As he moved inside of her, slow and powerful, Buffy felt his lips against her skin. She heard rumbling, could feel the growling in his chest against her back.

Inside she was so full and warm that her entire body trembled. She only just noticed the sound of him vamping when she felt fangs slip into her neck. He sucked twice, and her heart was beating so quick she was pretty sure it was going to explode. Spike whispered her name against her ear. The both of them gasped as one, Spike releasing inside of her. Once they caught their breath, they collapsed on the old duster, side-by-side.

"Whoa."

"You still alright, Slayer?"

Buffy, eyes wide, nodded at the ceiling of the random crypt. "We should patrol." She tried to bend her knees and didn't. "Once my legs un-jellify."

Spike chuckled, wrapping an arm around her waist and laying his head against her shoulder.

XXXXX

Once the Slayer and Spike got their land legs back, they decided to make up for lost time and split up to comb the cemetery for baddies to beat on. It was small enough that if they really needed the help they could give a shout. Plus, Spike had bet the Slayer he could stake more vamps by the time they met up again than she could. Nothin' more fun than the chase.

Unfortunately, he hadn't run into a single one. The place was scary quiet. They'd have to try another cemetery or two, or the docks maybe, see what fun was goin' on around Sunnyhell. As Spike approached the crypt that used to be his and was now Clem's, he saw his girl kicking an oversized git with an afro. He grinned, loving to watch his girl in a good fight. Spike stopped dead in his tracks when he smelled blood—Slayer blood, strong and fresh. The afro vamp stepped to the side, and Spike saw it: a stake was protruding from Buffy's middle. Spike ran at full speed, pulling the stake from his own coat and jabbing it into the vamp. He saw the berk dust out of the corner of his eye, but he didn't care. He was kneeling at Buffy's side as she gaped at the still-bleeding wound.

"No, no, no," Spike chanted.

This had happened before, he tried to reassure himself. When she had asked how he killed the other slayers. He'd kept pokin' at her wound at The Bronze while they played pool. Had gone to shoot her with the shotgun. Joyce had gotten worse and they spent the night sitting together. Buffy was fine. She'd be fine. Spike gathered Buffy up into his arms, racing for the DeSoto parked just outside the gates of the cemetery.


	14. Chapter 14

_Dedicated to Taste Like Special, Rinso, and RAGAnne._

 _You can assume that, in the gap of the scene break, a lot of the same revelations from "Fool for Love" happen. In the interest of not just repeating the show, I yadda yadda yadda-ed over it._

 _Also, fair warning: This ain't a fix-it fic. There will definitely be hardships our couple has to face. Just trust that this trilogy is all working toward a Spuffily ever after. :)_

 _Saturday's chapter has a speech from Tara that I had a lot of fun writing. And, starting next week, things start to go majorly off-canon. Violence, fluff... Things are about to get real interesting in Sunnydale._

Chapter 14

"Anne Pratt?" Buffy demanded. Every time she shifted in her hospital bed, Spike flinched. He could smell the wound each time it re-opened. She had Slayer healing, sure, but she needed to sit still a minute to let it work.

"My mum's name," Spike grumbled. He kept watching the door to Buffy's room, shifting on his feet, worried Ben might pop up. "Sorry. First one I thought of for someone who wasn't in Sunnydale. 'less you wanted me to use Dru's name?"

"Yeah, Drusilla. That doesn't stand out."

"Yeah, and Buffy's such a classic," he teased, though his voice was deadpan.

"I didn't realize your last name was Pratt," Buffy muttered.

"There's a reason no one knows my last name. I hate it." Spike turned to her. She was pickin' at the doc's bandaging around her torso."Oi! Quit it."

Buffy rolled her eyes, but she let her tank top fall back down. "I'm bored. We need to leave before they call my mom."

"You need to stop bleedin'. I'll juggle if it'll keep you in that damn bed."

Buffy tightened her lips, looking toward the window. It was pitch dark out, but only maybe six hours 'til sunrise. "Fine. I want you to tell me something, then."

"Sure," Spike said, taking a seat in the hard plastic chair next to her bed. "What?"

"When I went against Glory last time, you said I died 'cause I gave up. Like, that things just... just broke me. And before, when we were in that random crypt, you talking about me hitting on death or whatever."

"Flirtin' with death," Spike muttered. He'd been afraid she'd just wanted the bite to put herself in the thick of the danger, rather than anythin' about it feelin' good.

"Yeah, sure. So... Why do you think that? Why are you so sure that I'm death-obsessed?"

"What is this about?" Spike studied her, trying to read her mind. That only worked half the time.

"I haven't... I didn't get the chance to talk to you yet, what Faith and I got told by the PTB in the desert. This Slayer... She was a spirit guide or something. But she was wearing your coat, and pregnant. And she said 'Death is your gift.'"

"Death is your gift?" Spike leaned forward in his seat, raising an eyebrow.

"Death is my gift. Or our gift? Me and Faith. I couldn't really tell who was supposed to be getting told what." Buffy held her stomach, the wound clearly very sore despite the pain meds she'd been given. Probably didn't dish 'em out in slayer doses. "And all this death stuff... I feel like it's supposed to mean something."

"So what do you want me to tell you?"

"What you know about slayers. How they died. How I can avoid it, beyond the crystal ball that is your platinum blond noggin'."

"Slayer..."

"Spike. Please."

Her eyes were all wide an' doe-like. Spike gritted his teeth, silently cursing his inability to turn down the request of a Summers woman. "Fine." He pointed at her. "But so help me, if you make fun o' me for any of this, I'll stake you again."

"Why would I make fun of you?"

"'Cause I gotta start back at the beginnin' of things. Back before I got turned. And it's not my proudest set o' moments, alright?"

"Fine, fine." Buffy held her hands up flat. "Slayer's honor. I won't make fun."

"Alright. So it all started with this girl..."

"Drusilla?"

Spike shook his head. "Before her." This was gonna take a while. He didn't even have the fun of pool or Buffalo wings at The Bronze to distract him.

XXXXX

"All slayers have a death wish?" It was a lot for Buffy to take in: William the Bloody Awful Poet, how Angel had introduced him to the slayer obsession, how every girl he fell for kept rejecting him.

"Even you, once upon a time." Spike had his hands clasped together as he leaned forward in the hard plastic chair. "That's the trick of the thing. This gig wears ya out. You need lots of reasons to keep goin'. The family you've got."

"Dawn, and Mom."

"An' me," Spike said, taking her hand. A thought seemed to pass through his eyes when he glanced at her finger, but as soon as Buffy saw it, it was gone. "And Rupert and Wills and Harris and Tara and Anya." He released Buffy and stood. "All of us."

Buffy nodded. She picked at the sheets of the hospital bed under her. The smell of the place was making her want to barf. She wasn't sure if it was just that the place was barf-worthy or that her nerves were shot, or both. "And the best night of your life was when you killed the Chinese slayer?"

"Right, well... It was. It's not anymore. Hasn't been for a long time."

Buffy lifted her head, lowering her eyebrows. She didn't know if he was going to fill in the details there. Then again, when did Spike not take advantage of the chance to talk?

"One of the nights, before we faced The First." Spike stood, spinning to face the door instead of her. "You'd had a rough go of it, and I came an' found you. You asked..." His shoulders lifted and sagged with an exaggerated breath. "You asked me to spend the night with you. I just held you while you slept." Spike faced her, something gentle and soft in his expression. "Don't get me wrong, I enjoy a good brawl. And we've had plenty of good nights since. But that was the first night you ever really let me in."

"Spike, I—"

"Miss Pratt?"

The two of them glared at the doctor who'd just waltzed in the door.

"What?"

"I wanted to get a look at your wound," he said, not looking up from his clipboard. Buffy's jaw locked. She recognized this jerk. He was the one who'd blown her off about her mom's pills before Glory had tried to rip Buffy's arm out. Luckily, he didn't recognize her. "Please lift your shirt."

Behind the doctor, Spike growled, his eyes glinting golden. Buffy made sure to keep herself under control. No need to provoke Spike. She rolled her shirt up, showing the soaked bandaging. The doctor snipped and then unwrapped the gauze stuff, until finally the small, slightly red mark that had been a gaping puncture wound hours earlier was exposed.

"I don't..." He checked the chart in his hand again. "We were looking at the possibility of surgery to try and repair anticipated damage to your nerves. The nurses wrote..."

"I, uh, I drink lots of orange juice. Vitamin C?"

"Mate." Spike clapped his hand on the doctor's shoulder. The guy jumped out of his skin. "Clearly somebody screwed up. What, did the girl just perform surgery on herself while she was waitin' around?"

The doctor scowled down at the notes. "I'll be right back." He made for the door.

"And that's our cue to go," Buffy said, sliding off the bed and letting her shirt fall. She refused to wince despite the major pain going on inside her at the moment. "We should find a phone, call Faith and let her know we're headed back to them."

They moved out into the hall, keeping their heads down as they passed by doctors and nurses and other patients. Buffy held her hand to her stomach, the pressure there making the throbbing ache die down a little. Once they found a pay phone, Buffy picked it up and hit 0. When they got through, she heard a much higher pitched voice than she'd been hoping for:

"Uh, hello?"

"Dawn? Why aren't you asleep?"

"I dunno. Why aren't you home?"

Buffy chewed her lip, blinking, wide-eyed, up at Spike. Family. That's what mattered. She sighed. "Can you keep a secret? Who am I kidding? You can't. Never mind."

"No," Dawn whispered. "No, now you gotta tell me. Please Buffy? Please?"

"I'm at the hospital."

"Is Spike okay?"

"Wow. The vampire takes priority over your sister? Nice."

"You're talking. He's not. I took a wild guess." Dawn paused. "What's wrong?"

Spike leaned toward the phone, cheek to cheek with Buffy long enough to say, "I'm fine, Bit."

"Look," Buffy said. "It was a patrol-related accident. I'll be fine by sunrise. Some sleep'll help. Is Faith around?"

"B?"

"Faith, we're headed back. Sorry about being out so late. It's a long story. You can crash there if you don't feel like going back to the motel."

"Cool. I'll fight the kid for her bed."

Buffy grinned, leaning against Spike, who was still at her side. "Good luck with that. Fair warning: She's a hair-puller."

"Look, Buff, there's somethin' you should know, alright?"

"What?"

Faith never sounded serious like that. Buffy instinctively reached for the stake in the waistband of her skirt, then remembered that it'd been used to stab her and was probably back in Restfield somewhere.

"It's Joyce."

Buffy felt like her legs had given out under her. With her free hand, she clutched to Spike's t-shirt. "Mom?"

The fear sank into Spike's expression.

"She was packin' at one point. After I bugged her about it for ten minutes straight she told me she's stayin' at the hospital for tests or some shit. I thought you should know."

"I... yeah. Thank you, Faith."

Buffy hung up the phone and released Spike all at once. That's when she noticed she'd torn three fingertip-sized holes in his t-shirt. Buffy's lower lip trembled and Spike wrapped her up in his arms, resting his chin on top of her head. He held her there for as long as she sobbed, letting out all the fear and sadness and strain tight inside of her.


	15. Chapter 15

_This chapter is dedicated to Rinso, RAGAnne, and Taste Like Special for the reviews! Seriously, thank you guys. :)_

 _On Tuesday, there'll be some timeline-altering violence fun, on Thursday some major levels of Spuffy-tastic fluff, and next Saturday some badassery._

 _But for now, I hope you enjoy this chapter which, I'm pretty certain, has the Tara moment I've most enjoyed writing to date._

Chapter 15

Shadow. Shadow seemed so ordinary.

Buffy had spent the night in Dawn's bed. Spike volunteered to take the couch so Faith could use Buffy's bed. Buffy and Dawn, meanwhile, held each other all night, not really sleeping, just kind of staring off at the ceiling or the door or the window, expecting any minute that this would turn out to be some kind of screwed up dream one of them had had. But when Spike drove the Summers women and Faith to the hospital a little before sunrise, when they met Willow and Tara there, when Joyce went in for the scan, they still didn't wake up from this nightmare. They'd been here for hours and hours.

In the waiting room, Dawn had curled up next to Buffy. Tara and Wills sat on her other side, and Spike kept pacing and flicking through the channels on the TV. The doctor came in and everyone stood. When he spoke it sounded like Buffy was standing in the middle of an ocean. She held her arm around Dawnie's shoulders, stroking her little sister's hair. They'd found a shadow in their mother's brain. Shadow meant surgery. The doctor wanted Buffy to come sign some paperwork. He returned to her mother's room to wait.

Spike approached them, his mouth tightly shut. Dawn, eyes welling up, spun around to face him. "Is there—" he started.

Dawn slapped Spike in the shoulder and ran off in the opposite direction of Joyce's room. Tara sprinted after her. Buffy started toward her, too, but Spike grabbed her hand.

"Love, I'll go help. You take care of your mum, and I'll send Bitty Buffy your way in a mo, a'right?"

Buffy stared down the hall. She didn't want to put this off, but it made a little bit of sense. Willow came to Buffy's side.

"And Buffy?" Spike said. He squeezed her hand. "She makes it through. I promise."

As Spike started off toward Dawn and Tara, Wills linked her arm with Buffy's. The both of them blinked at Faith, leaning against the wall.

"I'll be here if anyone needs me," Faith said with a shrug.

Buffy didn't push, instead taking the long walk down the hall with Willow at her side. Her stomach twisted up more with each step.

"Buffy?" Willow's voice, small and cautious, cracked.

"Yeah?"

"You know I've got your back, right?"

Buffy turned to Willow and stopped in her tracks. She felt the sting at her eyes when she saw the hints of tears in Willow's. Buffy nodded, gulping. The two of them clung to each other in a tight, suffocating hug just outside of Joyce's room.

"Thank you, Will."

"You got it, Buff. I'll give Xander and Anya and Giles a call in a few, keep 'em in the know." They broke apart. Willow rubbed Buffy's shoulder. "Don't worry about a thing. Whatever you need, we're here." She smirked. "Even crazy Faith."

They smiled,walking into Joyce's room hand-in-hand.

"Mommy, how're you doing?" Buffy whispered.

"Miss Summers." Buffy jumped, clenching Willow's hand in hers. She hadn't realized the doctor was standing in the corner staring at some x-rays. "We need to discuss—"

Willow held Buffy's hand in an iron grip. "Later."

"I—"

"Are you familiar with the concept of transmogrification?" Willow said, her voice low.

"Excuse me?"

"Doctor, I think we need the room a minute," Joyce said from the bed. "You can leave the paperwork with the angry redhead."

"Fine." He stormed across the room, only pausing long enough to hand the clipboard to Willow before he left.

Willow smiled, bright and lively. "How're you doin' Mrs. Summers?"

Buffy and Joyce laughed, Buffy detaching from Willow. She shuffled over to the bed, sitting next to her mom.

XXXXX

Spike came up on the end of the hallway. Bit might've gone through the doors and down the stairs. He stopped, took a couple of sniffs. He could smell the almost-slayer blood, and the cinnamon sugar scent of the Earth Mother. They went left, not straight ahead. Spike turned, creeping down the dark alcove. He could hear their voices before he finally saw them. Dawn was sitting on the floor against the wall, curled into a ball with her legs to her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs. Her long hair draped around her like a curtain, and Tara, who was kneeling at her side, tried to brush some of it away to make her face more visible.

"Dawnie, it's alright to be upset."

"What would you know?" Dawn snapped. Her voice was garbled, the way it got when she'd been cryin'. Spike recognized it from the summer after Buffy died.

"B-b-believe me," Tara said, gaze unusually serious and stern as she concentrated on Dawn, "I _know_."

"Don't take it out on the good witch," Spike said, keeping his voice down. "It ain't her fault."

"No," Dawn said, unraveling herself to stand. "No, it's yours."

Tara struggled to her feet next to her. "Sweetie."

"No, think about it," Dawn said. "He's all-knowing. He knew this was coming. He could've stopped it and he didn't."

Spike opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn't. He'd been thinkin' the exact same thing, from the second Faith had let 'em know on the phone that Joyce would be heading to hospital today.

"Spike," Tara said, her voice as severe as he'd ever heard it. "You cannot blame yourself. It is not your fault."

"Think about it, pet. How much good have I done here, really?" Spike dug the toe of his boot into the hospital tile floor. "Powers should have bloody sent back someone who could actually do somethin'."

The witch took a step toward him, her shoulders thrown back. Spike never realized how tall she was. Even Dawn gaped at her with wide eyes. "You've helped," Tara said. "The Initiative wanted to turn me into a lab rat, Spike. And you saved me more months of agonizing over the fact that I thought I was a demon, of hiding that secret from Willow. We beat Adam without putting Buffy and Willow and Xander and Giles in danger with the enjoinment ritual. Warren is in the Watcher's Council's custody. You helped Buffy figure out that Riley was working with the Initiative crazies before things got serious with him and he broke her heart. I've helped Willow practice the magics slowly, letting her power grow with the support of everyone around her rather than get out of control. So don't you dare stand there and act like a breakdown in Joyce's body is somehow your fault, or that it undoes any of the rest of it."

"Wow."

"So, uh, Niblet. Note for the future: Don't piss off either of the witches."

"Apparently."

"Sorry." Tara's shoulders slackened. "I didn't mean to... to come off as so mean. I just know what it's like, to blame your mom's, um, health issues and stuff on yourself for even the most out there reasons. I don't... I'm trying to help. Bad things happen. No matter how hard you try, you can't make everything perfect. You can't keep every bad thing from coming true."

Dawn threw her arms around Tara. The girls smiled as they hugged and then pulled apart.

"Spike, I'm sorry I hit you," Dawn mumbled. "It's been a really long couple of days."

Spike grinned. "Don' worry 'bout it. Hardly feels like a complete day unless one of you Summers women is violent with me."

"Come on, Dawnie," Tara said. "Let's go say hi to your mom, hmm? And then, after that. maybe we'll go steal some Jello from one of the carts."

"You think they have green?"

Tara's eyes sparkled. "Only one way to find out. Race ya?"

Dawn grinned. "Spike's the rotten egg!"

"What?"

The girls sprinted past Spike. By the time he turned around, they were out of sight.

Tara was right, he supposed. Only so much anyone could do, 'specially when it came to things like disease. Knew that bloody well enough from his mother. He walked down the alcove and into the main hall. When he turned, he saw the Dark Slayer clear across the way, just standing alone in the waiting room as Dawn and Tara sped past her.

Disease was disease. They could do everything possible, but it wasn't somethin' they could beat 'til it bled. However, other things had bones that could crunch. And he knew just the slayer who might be lookin' for some such action. All they'd have to do is wait another couple o' hours 'til nightfall. Spike started toward Faith, knowing before he asked that she'd be game to get out of this place for a bit and have some simple, bloody-knuckle fun.


	16. Chapter 16

_This one is dedicated to Taste Like Special, RAGAnne, Rinso, and the guest reviewer from the last chapter._

 _SO MANY FUZZY FEELS COMING AT YOU THURSDAY, YOU GUYS. I CANNOT WAIT TO POST IT._

Chapter 16

Spike smirked. He caught Faith cracking her knuckles next to him. Girl was a good ally in a fight. Not as good as his Slayer, but something about the joy she took in her work aligned with Spike's own love of violence. The door they stood in front of opened. A tiny man with thin white hair and glasses blinked at them. He sniffed. Words echoed in Spike's head:

 _I don't smell a soul anywhere on you. Why do you even care?_

 _I made a promise to a lady._

"Hello, Doc."

"Curiouser and curiouser," Doc said with a smile. "Where'd you get the soul?"

"Saw a man about a girl. We need a spell. Told you could help."

"Right, right." Doc stepped aside. "Well, come on in!"

Faith raised her eyebrows at Spike. He entered first, Faith behind him. Spike didn't let his back be to Doc more than a second. Doc closed the door behind them, then wandered over to the hearth against the far wall.

"So what sort of spell are you in the market for?" Doc grinned. "Love potion, perhaps?"

"Nah. Wanted to find a god," Faith said. "We were lookin' to pay some tribute."

"Oh my. A _god_? Well, I think that's a little above my pay grade, if I'm being honest." Doc flipped through the pages of the nearest book. "Does this god have a name?"

"Yeah," Faith said. Spike could see her reaching inside her jacket, where Spike knew her knife was stashed. "Goes by Glorificus."

"Mm-hmm." Doc looked up. "And what do a vampire with a soul and the Slayer want with The Beast?" He chuckled, moving in front of his desk. Spike noticed the box with the carvings, knew it was important. He didn't want to tip his hand. "You know, you're not the soulled vampire and Slayer power couple I expected to see in Sunnydale."

"Funny thing about a hellmouth," Faith said. She was drawing the attention to herself, giving Spike time to move toward Doc without making a sound. "They're just full of surprises like that. I used to work for Mayor Wilkins, before the other slayer put me in a damn coma." She pulled her knife. "She used this. I want the bitch to pay."

Doc wasn't buyin' it. His eyes were shifting to the fire. Spike lunged, tackling Doc into the table. The box flew to the floor and cracked. Spike vamped, holding Doc by the throat and squeezing hard enough to pop the berk's head off. Or, he was, until Doc kneed him in the groin. Spike collapsed to the floor as Doc righted himself.

"You think you can trick _me_? I serve a much higher power than you can even conceive."

"That so?" Faith said from across the room. Spike took a series of quick breaths. As she spoke, he snatched the parchment that had spilled from the box and stuffed it into the pocket of his duster. "Well, my daddy figure was a school-sized demon snake. That's a pretty high power." She charged Doc with the knife.

"Oi, Action Girl! Watch the—"

Doc's huge lizard tongue snapped out and knocked Faith backwards.

"Tongue. Fuck's sake."

Spike used the bricking on the fireplace to climb to his feet. He kicked Doc in the back, sending him flying into the far wall. Faith was on her feet again and stabbed Doc right in the heart in one quick motion. When she pulled the blade away and stood, assessing him, blue spilled out from the hole in his shirt.

"Thought you said this guy was some kinda badass," Faith said.

"He's not dead," Spike muttered. He leaned down, takin' Doc by the hair, and tore his head from his body. More blue sludge gushed from the now bare neck.

"You're sick, you know that?"

"Just looks like a sweet lil' ol' man, pet. I ain't lettin' the Slayer... other Slayer... take the jump 'cause I screw up with killin' him. Doin' that once is enough for me." Spike pitched Doc's head into the fireplace. "You got your lighter?"

"Of course." Faith reached into the pocket of her pants and pulled it out.

Spike did the same with his. "Light 'im up," he said. "Then run like hell. We're torchin' the place."

"Don't you think library man might want some of these books?" Faith asked, though she crouched down and caught Doc's pants leg with the flame.

Spike used his lighter on the curtains, waiting a sec to watch 'em really catch. "There's nothing good in here. Just dangerous info that can get in the wrong hands." Faith was the first out the door, but Spike wasn't too far behind. They stood on the sidewalk, watching the orange come to life inside the place. "I picked up the only thing we'll need," Spike said. He presented the parchment from his duster pocket for a minute before tucking it back away. A few sparks popped and sizzled from the house, landing on the lawn near their feet.

"Paper?"

"Rituals and stuff." He pulled out a pair of cigs from his pocket. Spike crouched and lit the cigarettes on the flame that had formed in the grass, no bigger than his boot. "Attached to Glory. It'll prolly help." He stood again, handing the second cig to Faith.

"Right." They stood in silence, the sky dark and the house bright. Each of them took a long drag on their cigarettes. "Should we, ya know, call the fire department or somethin' so the whole neighborhood doesn't go up in flames?"

"Yeah. Prolly not a bad idea."

XXXXX

Buffy snapped to her feet when Spike and Faith walked in from the stairs. Xander and Anya had come in after they were done at work and were off getting coffee for everyone. Willow and Tara were on vending machine dinner duty. Dawn sat scribbling something away in her diary, sometimes staring up at Buffy but not saying anything. Faith and Spike were laughing about something as they approached the waiting area.

"Where the hell have you two been?" Buffy's eyebrows raised and she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Where'd the Sanderson Sisters go, B?"

"Not an answer to my question."

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it, Summers," Spike said. "We needed to blow off some steam. I'll tell ya about it later. You got bigger fish."

Buffy glanced at the floor. It _was_ kinda nice to know that things were being taken care of, even if it was annoying as hell to not know what those things were. Her eyes found Dawn, still sitting, weaving a small braid into her hair. Bigger fish. Buffy wrapped her arms around Spike's waist, and he held her to him. Her cheek still pressed to his chest, she directed her words to Faith.

"If anything... Can you stay? To help." Buffy signaled toward Dawn with her eyes. If anything went wrong with Joyce, Buffy couldn't handle anything. She needed all hands on deck.

Faith smirked, her dark lipstick looking even darker when she did. "What I'm here for, Buff. Blondie over there's right. Nothin' to worry your pretty little head about." Faith winked, twirled, and headed over to sit next to Dawn. She whispered something to Dawnie, but Dawn didn't seem particularly interested. The two of them weren't exactly on the best of terms after Faith went psycho. Buffy took two steps away from Spike. She tried to use the breathing technique Giles had taught her over the summer: two short breaths in through the nose, then one long exhale through the mouth.

"It shouldn't be taking this long," Buffy muttered. She adjusted the clip that swept her hair up behind her head. It'd been digging into her scalp for the last two hours. "Something's wrong."

The elevator opened down the hall and the Scoobies emerged. Willow and Tara had armfuls of bags of pretzels and jerky and stuff. Xand and Anya each had a beverage holder. Buffy felt knots of tension in her back, but somehow breathed easier with everyone here, even if Giles was missing. He wouldn't say, exactly, why he wasn't coming, but Buffy suspected he was trying to get in touch with the oracle-types from the Watcher's Council for some guidance.

"Who wants java?" Xander asked, slapping on the goofy smile.

"Except you, Dawn," Anya added. She picked out one of the drinks in her container, handing it to her. "You get hot chocolate. You're too young for coffee."

Dawn took the cup. Where she'd usually have some kind of cranky comeback, she remained silent. Buffy hated that she couldn't do more to help. She had all her friends here, her boyfriend here, and somehow Dawn still didn't seem to feel like she could open up. Even the key stuff aside, they all knew her as Buffy's kid sister. Buffy half considered calling Janice's mom to bring her, until Willow said "Buffy." They were all staring over Buffy's shoulder. She spun around to find the doctor.

"Buffy Summers?"

"Yes?" Buffy smoothed back her hair, tugged her shirt straighter, and checked that none of her earrings sat crooked.

"Your mother is out of surgery. She's going to be just fine. We'll keep her here a couple of days, just for observation purposes, and she'll need to adhere to strict medications and regular appointments in the coming weeks. But she handled the surgery just fine."

Buffy hiccupped, then clapped her hand over mouth. She nodded.

"Thank you, Doctor," Tara said, a gentle, comforting hand on Buffy's shoulder.

"We appreciate the news," Anya added in her default blunt, bright tone. "We like Joyce and we want her to be healthy."

"Yes, well," the doctor said, blinking at Anya. "She's asleep right now. It should wear off in the morning some time, if you'd like to see her then. Maybe only one or two visitors at a time, though. So she doesn't strain herself." With that, he walked down the hall.

Buffy no sooner turned to Dawn than she was being tackled. Dawn's long brown hair smooshed into Buffy's face, but Buffy couldn't give less of a crap. She held her sister to her tight, a hand on the back of Dawn's head.

"It's alright. We're gonna be alright," Buffy whispered.

"We should celebrate!" Dawn said when they separated.

"Sure. Bronze?"

"No!" Dawn shouted. She practically glared at Spike as he stood next to Buffy. "You guys should have a night to yourselves. No demons or anything. We can take patrol."

"Uh-huh. Right. And in _what_ universe am I letting my little sister loose on a hellmouth at night?"

Dawn rolled her eyes. " _Fine_. I'll, like, go over to Willow and Tara's place and we'll watch monkey documentaries."

"Ooh, Xander!" Anya said. "I want to watch the monkeys!"

"It's settled, then," Xand said. "Monkey party at Willow and Tara's place. Unless you're Buffy and Spike. You two aren't allowed. So sayeth the Dawnster."

"Psh," Buffy said, the news that her mom was alright making her feel lighter already. "You guys just wanna get rid of me. I see how it is."

"We know when we're not welcome," Spike added. He slung his arm around Buffy's shoulders and started leading her down the hall.

"Dawn isn't allowed around any sharp objects!" Buffy shouted over her shoulder. "Or nail polish. You'll thank me later."

"Go!" Willow shouted back, a huge smile on her face. "You've got snugglies to catch up on."

As Buffy turned to walk, hand-in-hand, with Spike, she heard Xand echo something Anya had once said: "Thank you very much for those nightmares."


	17. Chapter 17

_Who's ready to feel all warm and fuzzy?_

 _This chapter is for RAGAnne and Taste Like Special._

Chapter 17

It was the last day of November, and Buffy probably should've worn a jacket. When Spike noticed her shivering, he shrugged off his duster and put it around Buffy's shoulders. The coat was pleasantly heavy on her, and it wrapped her in all the scents she associated with Spike. When Buffy unlocked the front door of the house on Revello Drive and then locked it up behind them, Spike hit the lights.

"Pet, why don't you go an' get comfy on the couch. I'll grab us somethin' to drink an' nibble on, alright?"

"Don't have to tell me twice."

Buffy wandered into the living room. The first thing she did was kick off her sneakers that she'd thrown on that morning. She was just wearing a sweater and jeans, nothing fancy, plus Spike's coat. She pulled the collar of the coat to her nose, taking a deep breath. It was weird. There was something new in the mix, like a fresh bonfire. Buffy shrugged. She pulled the clip out of her hair and tossed it on the coffee table, shaking the blond waves out. When she turned around, Spike was standing there. Buffy tilted her head. She hadn't heard him come back in.

"Is the kitchen... empty?" She looked to his hands, both drink and snack-less.

"I forgot somethin' in my coat."

"Oh. Here, let me..."

"No, I got it." Spike leaned forward, fumbling around in the coat pocket.

"You sure this isn't just an excuse to paw at me?"

Spike pursed his lips at her. "Vain much, Slayer?" He retrieved something from the pocket, but immediately put the hand holding it behind his back.

"Ooh! Ooh! Is it a prezzie for me?" Buffy felt her smile lift her whole face.

"You're impatient, Slayer. Anyone ever tell you that?"

"Yeah, yeah. Whatcha got?"

Spike grinned and closed his eyes in that "Don't say anything stupid" kind of way. "You know I love you, right?"

"I love you too, Spike."

"No matter what you an' I are up against, no matter what's goin' on at any given time, I'm here for you. You, Dawn, your mum, you're my family. Even your friends, when they're not tryin' to stake me or what all."

Buffy remembered him mentioning that... was it only last night? When they were in the hospital, when Buffy had a wound the size of Peru in her torso, he said they were all her family. Maybe he was feeling sentimental because of her mom. It'd been a tough day on all of them. Still, this was a lot of lead-up to a gift...

"Bein' with you makes me a better man," Spike said. "You bring so much... so much light to all of us." He knelt down on one knee.

Wait.

What?

What?

Major spell flashbacks.

"I'm yours, for as long as we're stuck on this hellmouth and even after that. Bloody came back from heaven for you, dinnt I?" Spike's eyes were soft as he looked at her. He held up the hand he'd been hiding and snapped open a little velvet box. Inside was a small gold ring with a pearl at its center. "The point is, every minute, I'm in your corner. So, Buffy... Will you marry me?"

A tear slid down Buffy's cheek. Spike averted his eyes, for a moment. She was never supposed to get this. This was normal girl stuff. She wasn't even supposed to be alive this long. And here she was, with the guy she loved, getting proposed to. She gulped down some air, then nodded. "Yes, William. I would be..."

Buffy sobbed, covering her mouth with her hand. She only nodded some more. Words were not currently possible. Buffy held out her left hand. Spike took the ring from the box and slipped it onto Buffy's finger. He abandoned the box on the floor and sprung up, wrapping her up in a hug. Buffy giggled against him. Then she felt a weight hit against their left side, wrapping around them. Buffy shifted her face enough to see Dawn.

Then the shrieking.

"Oh my god you guys! I had to keep this... and with the... oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!"

"Bit. Breathin' room? For your sis, at least."

"Sorry. Ah!" Dawn sprinted out of the living room and into the dining room, then out of sight.

"Sorry 'bout that," Spike whispered. "She helped me plan it, she insisted she be allowed to witness it."

Buffy caressed Spike's cheek. "This is perfect." She kissed him, once, softly. Then she admired the pearl ring on her finger. "This is so pretty, Spike. Where'd you find it?"

Spike bowed his head, toeing at the wooden floor with his boot. "Was my mum's. Only thing I've got left of her."

Buffy rested a hand on Spike's arm. "Like I said, perfect."

Dawn returned into the room, a jumble of spastic energy with her limbs fidgeting and her head bobbing from side to side. Buffy took in, for just a moment, the complete 180 they'd made from that morning. It seemed like that was weeks away, that the Dawn who was sitting and scribbling in her diary and not talking to anyone in the waiting room had all those imaginary weeks to deal with the stress. Dawn held out her hand, with a box wrapped in gold and silver paper.

"What's this?" Buffy asked, taking the box and eyeing up Spike.

"Good question," he said.

"Open it, open it!" Dawn was going to hyperventilate if she didn't start taking deeper breaths.

Buffy did as her sister asked, peeling away the paper and letting it drop to the floor. She lifted the top of the white box. Inside, on a cotton sheet, sat a thin gold headband with pearls. On the one side, some peach-colored feathers had been attached to look like a flower blossom. Buffy ran her fingers over the feathers. "Dawn, this is beautiful."

"You really like it? I thought that maybe you could wear it, for the wedding?"

"Dawn," Spike said, his voice low, "how in the hell did you afford that?"

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Saved up my allowance. And then Willow took me to some boutique-y type places down by The Magic Box. When I couldn't afford anything, Anya came back with us the next day and helped us haggle."

Buffy blinked up at Dawn for a second. "Wait." She turned to Spike. "Willow knew? And Anya?"

"Uh, yeah?" Spike mumbled. "To be fair, I didn't tell Red."

Buffy bit back a smile. Spike was acting adorably awkward. "She guessed?"

"Uh, not exactly. I told Tara and Anya, to help set the thing up, make sure everything was in place before..."

"Does everyone know?"

"Not everyone!" Dawn protested. "Just me, and Willow, and Anya, and Tara, and Xander, probably." Dawn screwed her face. "Giles doesn't. Ooh, or Mom! Does Faith know?"

"I didn't tell her. But I wouldn't be surprised if she suspected." Spike sucked in his cheeks and raised an eyebrow. "You mad, Slayer?"

Buffy giggled. She covered her mouth with her free hand, then giggled again. Reaching for Spike's hand, she gave it a quick squeeze. "I don't think I'm gonna be angry again for, like, at least another week."

"Cool!" Dawn took the headband box back from Buffy, sprinting over to the fireplace to set it on the mantle. "Then is now a good time to tell you that I ruined your beige cami?"

"Don't push it," Buffy said. She pulled Spike's coat off of herself, laying it on the arm of the couch.

The front door opened and all of them spun around. All of a sudden Scoobies were packing into the place. Xander was the first in the door, with four pizza boxes stacked in his arms. Anya next, with two bottles of either champagne or cider. Then Tara with a pie, and Wills with such a large stack of magazines that she had to use her chin to keep them from toppling. Everyone but Willow headed to the dining room to put stuff down.

"Niblet?"

"I thought you'd want to celebrate," Dawn said. She approached Willow, helping her set the magazines on one of the armchairs.

Willow twirled, grinning at Buffy with her tongue held between her teeth. Buffy held out her left hand. Willow jumped and squeaked. She grabbed Buffy's hand, pulling the ring to examine it more closely.

"Would one of you lot shut that door?" Spike called to the dining room.

"We've got one more coming," Xander said. The three of them entered the living room just as Giles walked into the house.

"Is everything alright?" Giles asked, looking to each of his young charges... and Spike.

"Dawn, you didn't tell him?" Buffy demanded, shooting her sister a look.

"I thought you'd want to tell _somebody_ the news."

"Tell me what, Buffy?"

Buffy held out her hand, showing off the pearl ring. Giles' mouth hung open.

"Dear lord," Giles whispered.

"Spike and I are getting married," Buffy beamed.

"So! We have food and beverages to celebrate," Anya said.

"Ooh!" Willow reached over to the magazines on the armchair and picked one up. She handed it to Buffy. The cover had some lady in a huge white princess dress. "And we've got all these to look through. I tried to keep it to magazines that had the styles you liked—I went based off of what we looked at a couple of years ago for prom, mostly—with dresses in the fifteen hundred and below range. So we can start flipped through those and Post-It noting what you like. I've got this color-coding system, and..." Wills noticed that everyone in the room was staring at her like a crazy person. "Color-coding is an efficient form of organization," Willow muttered, though she stopped rambling.

"I'm glad you're all here." Buffy glanced at each person in the room. She was humming on the inside. Luckily, she'd given this some thought with the will-be-done spell. "I have jobs for all of you."

"Does it pay?" Anya asked.

"Shh," Xand said, a hand on his girlfriend's arm.

"It's not really a job if you don't get paid. Then it's volunteer work, which is just plain un-American."

"Dawnie," Buffy said, her voice low.

"Yuh-huh?" Dawn stood up straight, her fingers laced together in front of her.

"Will you be my maid of honor?"

"What?"

Buffy smiled. "You heard me."

"You don't want Willow to..." Dawn shot side-glances at the redhead next to her.

Buffy took slow steps toward Dawn. Once they were only a foot apart, Buffy stroked some of Dawn's hair out of her face. "You're my sister."

Dawn made a little whimper, then threw her arms around Buffy, holding her tight.

"But, uh, I get to be a bridesmaid, right?" Willow asked.

"Sweetie."

"I was kinda hoping you all would," Buffy said.

"I look rubbish in chiffon," Giles said. Buffy raised her eyebrows at him and Xander giggled.

"What does being a bridesmaid entail?" Anya asked. "Will I have to slaughter anyone? 'Cause I'm okay with the slaughter."

"Oh," Tara said. She rolled the hem of her sweater between her fingers. "I, um, I can't be a bridesmaid."

Buffy pouted, sticking out her lower lip. "What if I promise no slaughtering required?"

Tara laughed. "It's not that." She exchanged a look across the room with the platinum blond vamp. "Spike's already asked me to be a part of the ceremony."

"You're lookin' at our Wiccan priestess," Spike said.

Wow. They weren't kidding about having gotten started on this whole planning thing. Buffy glanced down at her hand, at the way the pearl stood out against her tan skin. Spike had mentioned his mom's name for the first time so recently, and now she was wearing his mother's ring. They might not be normal (okay, they were _so_ not with the normal), might not be able to have kids and whatever else, but parts of their lives could be normal. Buffy didn't even know if she wanted kids and all that, and she was a hundred percent certain she wanted Spike in her life.


	18. Chapter 18

_For Rinso, RAGAnne, and Taste Like Special!_

 _Next chapter = some fluffy goodness. Then some plot/strategy stuff after that. And some mega super-duper fluffy goodness after that. See ya next week! ;)_

Chapter 18

Joyce was putting away groceries in the kitchen with Buffy. She stuck the milk in the fridge. "Sweetheart, why don't you go grab your sister? We'll go out to eat and celebrate, anywhere you like."

There was a lot to celebrate: Her mom was healthy for the moment (though Buffy and Dawn and Spike were all obsessively checking up on her); Buffy and Spike were getting married; Spike finally told her that he and Faith had torched the guy who was responsible for cutting Dawn over Glory's portal in Spike's less-than-happy timeline. Things were of the good. When that happened on the hellmouth, you sure as hell partied.

"Can this place have chocolate involved somehow?" Buffy grinned. "I'm thinking something in the realm of chocoholic lava explosion of sugary coma."

"Sure," Joyce laughed. "Is there anywhere in town where Spike can eat, too?"

"What, like a cash blood bar? Nowhere I'm taking my mother and sister, no." Buffy rolled her thumb over the pearl in the ring on her finger. Even Spike hardly went to Willie's anymore, except to cheat in poker against Clem and some other demons. "Besides, if the place we go to has deep-fried onions on the menu, he'll be good to go."

Joyce crushed the last empty paper bag and stuck it in the trash. "So the Doublemeat Palace then?"

"Good god, no!" Buffy started for the stairs. "Can you call Xander and tell him to send Spike over when they're done looking at tuxes with Anya?"

"I'll get right on that!" Joyce called back.

Buffy reached the top of the stairs. Dawn's bedroom door was open. "Dawnie?" Buffy stuck her head in. The room was empty, the only sign that Dawn had been home the diary on her bed and the backpack tossed on the floor. Buffy tried their mom's room next, and found nothing. She'd check the bathroom in a minute. First she wanted to grab her garnet necklace. When she opened her bedroom door, Dawn was sitting on the edge of Buffy's bed.

"Oh, hey," Buffy said. "Mom wanted me to tell you..."

Dawn lifted her head, staring at the wall. Her face was red and her cheeks were covered in tears. That was when Buffy caught sight of the black notebook in Dawn's hands. Buffy felt her eyes open so wide they stung, and a breath caught in her chest mid-inhale.

"'Bit is not the Slayer's real lil sis,'" Dawn read from the book. "Glory wants the kid's blood to spill into her portal and go home. Once there's even a drop of the stuff, Dawn's gotta die to close the portal again.'" Dawn tilted her face toward Buffy, her lip trembling. "I'm not your sister?"

"Oh god. I didn't want to tell you. I thought—" Buffy reached for Dawn's shoulder, but Dawn scrambled up to the headboard, curling her legs to her chest with her back to Buffy's pillows. She clutched to Spike's notebook for dear life.

"Leave me alone!" Dawn shrieked, more tears spilling over. She was scared and freaked. She shouldn't have found out that way, but Buffy thought she'd have more time, that she could tell Dawn about this once she was safe and Glory was taken care of.

"No." Buffy sat on the end of the bed, giving Dawn space but not abandoning her, either. "Not until we talk about this."

"I don't want to talk to you. You can stop pretending you care about me. I'm just another annoying part of your job."

"If you think that, you don't know me at all," Buffy said. "I love you. That's not some magical side-effect. You're my sister. It doesn't matter how you got to Sunnydale." Buffy reached out her hand, palm up, an offer that she wasn't going to push. "Dawn, you are my earring-stealing, planning-proposals-behind-my-back, chocolate-milkshake-inhaling little sister, and I love you."

Dawn sniffed, eyeing Buffy's hand. Finally, dropping the notebook, she rested her twitching hand on Buffy's. Spike had been nudging Buffy to tell Dawn about this since the Scoobies found out, but Buffy wanted to cut Dawn a break, to let her just be a kid for a while longer. There was no guarantee she'd really recover from this news.

"Did you know?"

"Did I know what?" Buffy asked, gripping Dawn's hand in hers.

"When you asked me to be your Maid of Honor. Did you know? Or what that the monks' spell, too?"

"I knew. I've known for a while. So has everyone else. And I still want you to be. My Maid of Honor, I mean."

Dawn let Buffy's hand go and scooched down the bed. Still curled up in a ball, she leaned against Buffy's side. "Is it because you want me to wear a hideous dress and take photographic evidence to use against me later?"

Buffy wrapped her arm around Dawn's shoulders, combing her fingers through her sister's hair. "Oh, totally."

"I knew it."

Buffy laid her head against Dawn's. "If... If you want to know more about this stuff, you can ask Giles, or Spike. He's all with the future knowing, especially when it comes to Glory and the..."

"The Key?"

"Yeah."

"Buffy?" Dawn wrapped her arms around Buffy's waist, snuggling against her shoulder. She seemed so much younger just then, like when she was seven and their cat ran away, and so much older, too. Too much weight had been placed on the girl's shoulders. Buffy could relate.

"Yeah, Dawnie?"

"I still think you're an airhead."

"See, and here I was going to tell you that Mom wants to take us out to dinner and I scored us guaranteed chocolate-y goodness for wherever we go."

The both of them just sat there a while, holding each other, listening to the silence. Dawn was going to have a hard time of it. Buffy knew that. She just hoped that between her and her mom and the Scoobies, they could figure out a way to make it hurt less for Dawn.

XXXXX

Buffy and Faith were not happy.

They sat in The Magic Box, Faith with her feet kicked up on the table. Buffy, just to keep her hands busy, was whittling a new stake. It never hurt to have extra stakes around, or to be holding something pointy and threatening when Quentin Travers was in the room. Giles was off picking him up from the airport in LA, and they were due back any minute. Faith seemed to have the same idea about sharp things, because she was rubbing a cloth over her knife, shining it. Buffy had to threaten to kick Spike's ass to keep him from tagging along. She didn't need the extra worry of him decking Travers for saying something stupid. Instead, he was back on Revello Drive playing Life with Dawn, Tara, Wills, and Joyce.

Travers had info on Glory beyond the documents Spike had snagged from that house he'd burned down, so they needed to get said info out of Travers, by threats if necessary. Buffy kind of hoped it was necessary, if she was honest. A good ass-kicking was just what the doctor ordered. She especially wanted to know more about the Dagon Sphere, because if she could send that with Dawn to school every day it'd be a load off her shoulders.

"So how's the rugrat doin'?" Faith asked.

"Huh?"

"Dawn."

"Oh. Yeah. Um, she's been, like, blowing off homework and stuff. Mostly just sits around the house staring off. We've been trying to cheer her up. Spike even offered to take her on a patrol, but she went up to bed instead."

"Gotta be hard," Faith said. She glanced at Buffy. "Knowin' you don't really belong. Even if people try to make it easy for you, never really is, is it?"

The door to The Magic Box opened. Travers walked in first, Giles after him. The slayers tensed in their seats, Faith's feet thudding to the floor.

"Yes, well," Giles said. "I have a salesgirl to help me see to all of it. Quite knowledgeable. In, er, monetary concerns and such."

"Miss Summers," Travers said, approaching the table like he owned the place. "Miss Lehane. Lovely to see you both again."

Buffy and Faith exchanged side glances, both of them holding their lips tight shut. Then they each acted at once, like they'd coordinated it ahead of time: Buffy pitched her newly carved stake at the wall to their left, where it stuck in at about head level. Faith took her knife and stabbed the table with it, letting it stand there on its own. Then the two of them blinked up at Travers.

Buffy smirked. "Did you have a nice flight, Quentin?"

Giles' mouth puckered and his eyes got real wide like he had a whole lemon stuck down his throat. The Watcher's Council really brought out the repressed British type in him. "Uh, would you like some tea, perhaps?"

"Not right now, Mr. Giles. Perhaps we should all have a seat."

"Look at that," Faith said. "B and I are ahead of the game." She ran her tongue over her dark lip gloss, then looked Travers up and down.

Travers sat across from Faith, Giles next to Buffy. When the slayers only blinked at him, Travers pulled a file from his coat and rested it on the table. Then he folded his hands, leaning forward. All very deliberate, trying to pretend he was the one in control here.

"I understand you're looking for information on Glorificus."

"The Dagon Sphere, especially," Buffy said. There had been a book that mentioned it, but it'd gotten wrecked when some Lei-Ach demons attacked Anya and Spike. "I want to know what it does to her."

"Well, I happen to have all the information you might need right here," Travers said, patting the top of the file. His lips curled up, the way the grin met his eyes betraying something really bad going on.

"So B," Faith said, tilting her head toward Buffy but not taking her eyes from Travers. "What's the bet on the catch here?"

"Hmm." Buffy twisted up her lips. "I'm going to wager they either want our first borns or a free year's subscription to Tweed Weekly. How 'bout you, F?"

"Huh. I was gonna guess fashion advice. Call me optimistic."

"Buffy, please," Giles whispered. But, when Buffy looked to him, he was fighting back a smile.

"It's good to see the slayers finally cooperating," Travers muttered. To show off, he opened up the file and flipped through a couple of pages, slowly, before closing it again. "And that's all we ask here—cooperation."

"So what's the terms? We're not stupid," Faith said, her voice getting a little deeper the longer she spoke.

"We wish for you—for all three of you—to work, officially, for the council again."

"Okay."

Giles and Faith both stared at Buffy. Faith opened her mouth to say something, but Buffy stood up and continued.

"So here's our terms: We join you guys again. You give us the Glory info." Buffy folded her arms across her chest. "You pay all _three_ of us a salary so we can dedicate ourselves to the slaying and still, ya know, eat and replace demon-wrecked clothes and stuff."

Travers nodded, his lower lip stuck out. "All perfectly agreeable."

"Wait," Faith said. She stood up now, too, the slayers side-by-side and not showing a single chink in the armor. "That's not all."

"It's not?" Buffy whispered. They probably should've figured this out before Travers got here. God only knew what Faith might demand.

"We get to run the show," Faith said. She looped her thumbs in the waistband of her black leather pants.

Travers chuckled. "Excuse me?"

"You haven't, uh, _seen action_ in years." Faith ignored Giles' laugh-turned-cough. "We're the ones on the front lines. We get to make the calls. Like who we work with, and what we do."

Faith was arguing for them to keep working with the Scoobies. For the watchers to stay out of the way with Dawn. For their freedom. Buffy wanted to high-five Faith right then and there, but that might not be professional.

"We can accept your input as the authority in most matters," Travers said. "But we do have an issue to discuss in the matter of your associates."

Buffy's jaw locked and her nostrils flared. She should've known it'd never be that easy. "So who do you want to stop slaying? The two powerful witches? The ex-demon who's on first-name basis with more demons than the council's forgotten? The guy who's been at this gig of his own free will since he was failing math in high school?"

"No." Travers sneered. "Actually, it's the matter of your vampire associate."

"Angel?" Faith asked, her face screwed up. "Tall, dark, an' pasty's still in LA."

"No." Buffy took a step forward. "Spike."

Giles, noticing the immediate danger Travers had just put himself in, stood, laying a hand on Buffy's arm. He lowered his head, an assurance in his expression that they didn't have to take this deal, or do anything she didn't want to do.

"Blondie Bear's part of the package," Faith said. "No Spike, no deal."

"William the Bloody is a variable we cannot risk," Travers said.

" _Spike_ ," Buffy shot back through gritted teeth, remembering the nickname had come from jerks making fun of Spike's poetry, "has a soul. He fights with us now."

"Does this reverse any past indiscretions?" Travers had the balls to stand up. "Enough that you are willing to dedicate yourself to him in matrimony?"

Buffy's mouth hung open when she turned to Giles. "You didn't." Giles shook his head.

"When a William Pratt suddenly has a social security number in Sunnydale and a Tara Maclay applies for justice of the peace status, the pieces are not difficult to assemble, Ms. Summers."

Buffy felt all of her insides clench. She was the Slayer. She needed the information in his file. Spike knew a lot of the future, but he didn't have a play-by-play of everything. They had some stuff on Glory, but it didn't help all that much. Dawn was at risk. They all were.

She couldn't give Spike up. She always had to sacrifice everything to this calling. But her fiancé, her sister, her friends... They were the only reasons she kept fighting every night, kept getting up in the morning.

"Get bent," Faith said.

"Mr. Giles," Travers said, turning to the second oldest person in the room. "Perhaps you could convince your slayers to be reasonable and..."

"I think Faith has summed up our feelings quite succinctly, actually." Giles removed his glasses. "I'm not... I'm not entirely a fan of Spike, either." Buffy raised an eyebrow at her watcher. "He steals my Wheetabix all the time and never replaces it," Giles whispered. Then he cleared his throat, re-directing his words to Travers. "But Spike has helped us keep..." Giles took a breath. Buffy knew he was swallowing down the mention of Dawn. "He has given us foresight, helped us in countless battles, and has worked tirelessly to be of service to my slayer. If she says that he is non-negotiable, then he is not."

Buffy felt her eyes well up but, for Travers' sake, fought it back. Giles really was in her corner for everything. She could hardly contain herself.

"Listen," Buffy said, her voice brighter for Giles and Faith having her back. "The Powers That Be were the ones that sent him back, soul and memories and all. You got an issue with my fiancé, you can take it up with them."

Travers' lips thinned to a point of non-existence. He nodded. Faith held up her hand, and Buffy obliged her a high-five. As Travers sat back down with the file in front of him, Faith leaned over to Buffy's ear, keeping her voice low.

"Damn, B, I had no idea you had balls like that on you." Faith tapped Buffy's arm with her elbow. "Must get it from Joyce."


	19. Chapter 19

_Dedicated to Rinso, RAGAnne, Taste Like Special, and gottaloveva._

Chapter 19

After Travers left and Faith headed to Revello Drive to check up on things, Buffy was sticking some books in Giles' shelves. He needed the help, and Anya was off getting something taken care of for Buffy's wedding, so she thought it was only right to return the favor. Plus, that meant she could avoid her Mythology final paper until tomorrow morning. Willow had insisted Tara and Buffy take the class with her. Wills had been designing her own Religion & Spirituality major, with a computer-type minor, and any time they could all take classes that counted toward something, Willow found a way to make it work in their schedules.

When she felt demon tingles enter the shop, Buffy tensed, a book halfway on the shelf. She listened closely, took a deep breath. Then she recognized the clunk of the boots and the leather and cigarette scent. Buffy smiled, getting the book on the shelf just seconds before she felt his lips against her ear and his arms around her waist.

"You playin' librarian tonight, love?" He kissed the side of her neck. "'Cause I got somethin' I might want to check out."

Buffy giggled, kissing him. Then they heard the throat clearing. Spike detached from her, and the pair of them turned to Giles, who had returned from the inventory room in the basement and was poking around at the register. Buffy wiped her lips.

"Did Faith make it to the Summers home alright?" Giles asked.

"Sure," Spike said. "She gave me the okay to give pint-sized the glowy orb, then we did a quick look-around town before she when back to the motel." Spike picked up some iron hourglass thing from one of the nearby counters. "Is the Slayer good to go or you gonna have her workin' for free all night?"

"I resent that. Buffy volunteered to help. And she's free to leave whenever she pleases."

Buffy laid her hand on Spike's chest for a second. "I just got one thing I gotta do real quick, okay?" She lifted herself to kiss him, a quick peck on the lips. Then Buffy walked over to Giles. Her watcher's face got all serious, but he waited for her to speak. "So, you know how Clem is Spike's Best Man and Xand is one of his groomsmen, right?"

"Yes?"

"Well..." Buffy averted her eyes, watching the register between them and swaying on her feet. "I was kinda hoping you might... walk me down the aisle? In theory, my dad could do it, but he's MIA and we haven't exactly been close and... Am I babbling?" Buffy turned to Spike, who was biting his lip to keep from laughing at her. "Oh god, I'm babbling."

Before Buffy could turn to Giles, she was blindsided by a tight hug. Hugging her watcher back, Buffy remembered when Willow's vampire self had dropped in from the Wishverse. They'd all thought Willow was dead, and Wills had wigged when Giles had hugged her. Giles hugs? Totally rare and unexpected. But nice, just the same. Giles pulled away, holding Buffy by the shoulders.

"I would be honored, Buffy."

He started with tears; Buffy started with tears. Buffy sniffed and wiped at her eyes. "God, I'm such a wuss. I've been crying every five minutes lately."

"Well then." Giles smiled and returned to the register, giving Buffy a minute to recover. "Um, Spike, how was Dawn tonight? Is she... Does she seem to be feeling more like herself?"

"You mean more like a great big bouncin' green ball of energy?" Spike rolled his eyes. "Don't look at me like that, Watcher, I know what you meant. She's still not herself, no. Haven't heard her shriekin' since the bloody proposal."

"Hmm." Giles' forehead wrinkled as he followed a thought he didn't share with the class. Then he grabbed his wallet from his pocket and took a credit card from it to pass to Buffy. "Here."

"You want me to give Dawn your credit card?" Buffy curled her nose. "I didn't realize you were so financially suicidal."

"I would prefer you to hold onto it. You're going dress shopping this weekend, aren't you?"

"Uh-huh..."

"Let Dawn get whichever dress she prefers, so long as you approve. As a gift. She should know..." Giles' lower lip retreated into his mouth for a moment before he started speaking again. "She should know that she has people who love her, and she should feel special, even if her father is a pillock who doesn't..." Giles glanced at Spike, then Buffy. "Sorry. Hopefully it might help."

Buffy couldn't help but feel like some of that Papa Bear protectiveness and love was directed her way, too. Giles was always a way better father than her actual one. Plus, bonus? He'd never take off on them for some secretary 'cause you could bounce a nickel off her ass. "Thank you, Giles." Buffy leaned across the counter and kissed Giles on the cheek. "Are you sure you don't need any more help?"

"Anya and I can handle anything more in the morning."

"How 'bout a patrol, Slayer?" Spike offered.

"Race you to the docks?" Buffy stuck her tongue out at Spike, then sprinted for the door of The Magic Box. She could hear Spike's boots scuffing the floor behind her.

XXXXX

Spike didn't know that there was anythin' more exhilarating than chasing his Slayer, knowing that if he caught her or if she caught him, they might laugh or kiss or embrace by the water. He got so caught up in the adrenaline, in the blur of darkness and lamp lights, that he lost track of Buffy. Spike slowed down to a brisk jog, looking around and not finding anything around him except the docks and the old wooden warehouse to his right. He came to a complete stop now, spinning around. He could still smell her—sunshine and slayer's blood—but...

"Tag!" she said, fingers pressing into his shoulder blade. "You're it."

Spike growled, turning about so fast his duster fluttered. He grinned at her, could feel the feral expression on his face. "Am I now?"

Buffy flashed a big, bright smile before taking off toward the water. Spike ran at full speed, catching up with her at the end of the docks. She was standing in place when Spike wrapped his arms around her. Without slipping into vamp face, he playfully bit the side of her neck and growled.

"Oh, gross."

Buffy and Spike immediately detached, looking for the source of the voice. They found a vampire in a suit studying them from the shadows against the warehouse.

"Got a problem, mate?" Spike said.

"Yeah." He walked toward them, flexing his fingers. "And it starts and ends with the disgrace to our race that is this thing you two are doing." The mouthy vamp shuddered. "Yeeech."

"Aw, honey," Buffy said. She was still wearing her smile. "You know what? I think our friend here is jealous. He doesn't have a gal of his own."

"I'm not jealous, Slayer."

"Hmm." Buffy pulled the stake from the inside of her jacket and tapped the pointy end against her lips. "Maybe you're right. You're not jealous." Buffy pitched the stake at the vamp, who managed a dropped jaw before he crumbled into ashes. "You're dust."

"Kitten inn't playin' with her food tonight, hmm?" Spike grabbed Buffy's hand, lacing his fingers in hers. Buffy laid her head on Spike's shoulder as they walked side-by-side back toward downtown Sunnydale.

"I'm too happy to have vampires insult me tonight," Buffy said. Spike could feel the lightness of her steps.

"And what all happened that you're such a little blond ball of sunshine?" Spike knew at least some of the deal from Faith, but he wanted to hear his Slayer go on about it. She didn't get to talk about her joys nearly enough, and he was a willin' audience.

"I totally told Travers how things would be. And I get a salary now! A _salary_. For slaying, which I've been doing for free for, like, ever. And we can totally use it to pay for the wedding. We should get Tara something. For officiating, you know? Like a pretty new dress, or some jewelry or something. Or maybe there's some Wiccan book she's been eyeing. I might ask Wills when Tara's not around, to keep it a surprise. And the Dagon Sphere stuff is good news, and... I'm just happy."

"I'm glad, pet."

"So: this wedding."

"Yeah?" Spike said, tilting his head. No one else shared the streets with them. It was December, just chilly enough for the residents of Sunnydale to pretend they had a brain in their heads and not be out after dark when they could get chomped on by anything without a pulse.

"Are there any colors you want in particular? Or how about my dress? Anya's totally on the ball about finding us a place to use, which is _so_ sweet of her."

"Whatever you want, it's yours." Spike sucked in his cheeks, knowing this would likely get him a slap to the chest. "Even if I gotta bite someone to make it happen."

"Or you could, you know, actually talk to people."

"An' when have I ever followed my brain, exactly?"

"You make a fair point."

"Speaking of." The list of things that might piss the Slayer off was long and ever-changin', but she'd figure this out sooner or later. "Faith agreed to be one of my groomsmen. Seein' as how she's not of your bridesmaids." Spike tensed against Buffy's side.

"I think that's nice," she whispered. She didn't even miss a beat in their walking.

"You do?"

Buffy squeezed his hand. "She's been helping us a lot. And she hasn't tried to kill any of us in at least a year. Girl deserves a second chance." Buffy lowered her head, admirin' her boots. "It's not exactly easy, being the slayer. Only reason it hasn't driven me to hosting tea time with Mr. Gordo is because I've got you guys to keep me sane."

"Right." Spike pushed away the images snapping around in his brain: When she thought they were all a figment of her imagination, when she sung about bein' torn out of heaven, when she laid still and heartbeat-less on the ground under the tower. "So, uh, what colors were you thinkin' then?"

"I like apricot. Willow's been showing me a bajillion different colors. I might see what Dawnie likes, for her dress. And Wills has this whole system where she..."

As the Slayer continued on plannin' their wedding, as they walked hand-in-hand through what had become downtown Sunnydale, Spike smiled up at the night's sky.

XXXXX

Buffy had come to one conclusion: Someone hated her.

In the dressing room that the sales girl had left her in, Buffy stared at herself in the mirror. She was in a dress that someone (either Dawn, Willow, Tara, or Anya) had picked for her to try on. Given the dress, Buffy's money was on Dawn or Anya. It was silver, with a puffy ruffle-y skirt and so many ugly white fabric flowers stitched onto it that it you could hardly even see the silver. The only saving grace Buffy had was from the neck-up: She was wearing the bronze and garnet necklace, and the pretty gold and pearl headband Dawn had given her when Spike proposed, which she wore with her hair in a pretty French twist Tara had done for her. Buffy sighed and finally decided that exiting the fitting room was inevitable. It took all of five seconds when Buffy stepped out to figure out the sadist behind her current dress:

Dawn laughed so hard she snorted the orange juice she was sipping from a champagne flute out her nose. Tara and Willow sat to Dawn's left, Anya to Dawn's right. Each of them was holding a glass of juice.

"I think this would make a _lovely_ maid of honor dress," Buffy said with a bright smile.

Dawn's mouth hung open, and her eyes got super wide.

"You look like an angry cloud," Willow whispered to Buffy.

"Oh, but in a very feminine and charming way," Anya said, her smile and her voice equally bright.

"Wow." Buffy stuck her hands on her hips—or, she tried to. There was too much dress to tell if it actually worked. "Wills, did Anya just out-tact you?"

"No!" Willow cringed. "Uh-oh."

"There are, um, some other dresses we picked," Tara said. "If you want to try some of those? I promise they're not as hideous."

"Do you guys have some you like for yourselves?" Buffy squirmed in her dress. The thing itched all over. Anya pointed to a rack next to them, where one halter dress and one Queen Anne dress were hanging. They were perfect, simple.

"I, um, have a pink dress with gold designs on it, back at my place," Tara said, her mouth screwing up into an unsure expression. "Does that...?"

"Sounds great," Buffy said with a nod. "How 'bout you, Dawnie?"

Dawn shrugged. "They're all really expensive and stuff. And you were a total ditz and didn't tell me what color you wanted me in."

"Any color you like." All four ladies raised their eyebrows at Buffy. "And it's Giles' treat."

"Wait, really?"

"Really really."

Dawn brightened in a way she hadn't in a long time and jumped to her feet. She clapped her hands together, swaying from side to side. "There's this dusty blue one that Willow had in one of her magazines...?"

"I'll see if the salesgirl has it!" Willow bounced to her feet. "Page 71 of _Bridal Monthly_?" She didn't wait for a response, running off to grab it.

Dawn, in the meantime, walked up to Buffy, throwing her arms around her. "Sorry I made you wear the ugly dress," she muttered against Buffy's shoulder.

"Just make sure you thank Giles, alright?" When they broke apart, Buffy turned. "Also, you are now required to help me take it off."

Dawn followed Buffy back into the dressing room. That was when Buffy saw the other dresses (all white, thankfully) hanging there, just waiting for her. One of them was long, with a one-shoulder neckline and some rhinestones attached around the waist as a fake-out belt. Buffy ran her fingers over the soft fabric. She knew before she even got out of the dress she was in that this one-shoulder would be the one, no contest.

"God, this thing has, like, a _million_ buttons."

"See what you did?" Buffy grinned, no real anger in her voice. Dawn started to undo all the buttons along the back of the silver dress as Buffy admired the one-shoulder hanging in front of her. Dawn interrupted Buffy just as the space between her eyebrows started to crinkle.

"What's wrong, Buffy?"

"I just..." Buffy took a deep breath and hung her head. Her sister, an energy source turned human who Buffy would keep safe with her own life, was more in danger every day. Add to that the fact that Buffy was putting everyone else in danger by sheer association, and that her mom may or may not get sick again some time soon. Plus average baddies. And Buffy was here, planning a wedding like... like some girl who wasn't responsible for the whole wide world. "I feel silly, trying on wedding dresses and picking out flowers, when we so have more important things to be working on."

"Like Glory?"

Buffy could swear that, the more time Dawn spent talking to Spike, the more observant she'd gotten.

"You want my opinion?" Dawn said. She was about halfway done with the buttons.

"Sure. Hit me." Buffy held the corset of the dress against herself as it started to fall.

"You deserve to be happy, sometimes." Dawn was chewing her lip as she glowered at a button that wouldn't come undone. "I mean, when you have five seconds, you know?"

Buffy remembered words she'd spoke to Willow when they'd first gone to The Bronze together: _"Seize the moment. 'Cause tomorrow, you might be dead."_ The insta-flashback made Buffy all nostalgic which, combined with the wedding planning, was liable to make Buffy start bawling like a baby. She held her breath for a minute to keep that from happening (or at least to hold that in until she got in the dream dress).

"And I think Spike is really good for you," Dawn added. "You cried all the time with Angel."

"Not all the time." Buffy wrinkled her nose. "There were some happy things."

"But Spike... You have a lot more fun with him, you know? And he really cares about you... and about all of us. Plus, he's never _really_ tried to eat me. Just threatened to, once or twice."

"God, it's probably pretty awful that that's your standard for my boyfriends, huh?"

"Ooh, plus? He's never let the government experiment on you or your friends."

Buffy laughed. "I take your point. You really... I'm not being dangerously, stupidly selfish, though?"

Dawn finished with the buttons and stood upright again. "Nah. Not anymore than usual." She stuck her tongue out behind Buffy as they both looked into the mirror. "So have you got a date yet?"

"Spike has one in mind. He was thinking January 19th."

"January 19th?"

"Yeah."

"But..."

"I know."

"The curse."

"Yeah." Buffy had questioned Spike's decision making process, but he was convinced it might turn the bad luck birthday juju around. Plus, he wanted to do it while Joyce was still feeling like herself, just in case it actually came to pass that she got sick again. It was one of the only things he had asked for, so Buffy felt like a jerk if she said no.

"Should we just get the 'What could possibly go wrong?' out of the way now?" Dawn said.

"Good plan. Cover all our bases."

Willow poked her head in, holding up a grayish-blue v-neck chiffon dress. Dawn gasped and grabbed the hanger. "Need anything else right now?" Willow asked.

Buffy reached her hand out and squeezed Wills'. "We're good. Thanks."

Willow disappeared, dropping the fitting room's curtain again. Buffy stepped out of the silver dress, wearing the white panties and the corset the salesgirl had laced up for her. She reached for the one-shoulder and pulled it off the hanger. Buffy's mind started to wander to the past year, to the ways in which Spike had become a part of her life, a part of all of their lives, really. Buffy wasn't sure what made her think of the charts they'd made to take down Adam while Warren was still working with him and not in a Watcher's Council prison somewhere. All of a sudden, Buffy found herself obsessed with the chart idea. Wills would be all over it. All they needed was Spike to provide the details...


	20. Chapter 20

_Dedicated to the wonderful Rinso, RAGAnne, and Taste Like Special!_

 _The next chapter takes place on January 19th. See ya Saturday. ;)_

Chapter 20

Red did not muck about when it came to color-coding whenever she got the chance. The whole lot of the Scoobies had packed into the Watcher's flat about a week after Christmas. It was less than three weeks 'til the wedding, but they'd gotten it mostly sorted. Now the Slayer was gettin' antsy about the fact that Glory was just hanging around town. His girl did not play the waiting game. Willow held a blue marker by the huge notepad she'd set up in the living room. Giles sat in the armchair. Xander and Anya had brought in two barstools, Faith had taken the floor, and Spike sat between Buffy and Tara on the couch.

"Any other weapons you can think of?" Willow said, directing this question at Spike.

Spike chewed in the inside of his cheek. He tried to think of The First, what had been useful.. What worked on The First Evil could sure as hell kick hell god arse. "I mean, the amulet Angel got from some mystery donor."

"An amulet?" Giles asked, leaning forward in his seat. Willow printed the word neatly in blue lettering under the right hand column labeled "weapons."

"No good," Faith said. "We can't use it."

"Why not?" Buffy asked.

"Right." Spike scratched the back of his head. "Did me in. Extra crispy. Sunshine from the inside out kinda pinches, if you were curious."

Willow picked up her red marker from the floor and dug in a huge red X over the amulet on her chart, then re-capped it. "Okay. So, allies who are not currently in the room." Willow pointed at the green left handed column with the red marker. "We've got the Watcher's Council. Angel. Cordy. _Maybe_ D'Hoffryn. Clem." Spike didn't want to mention some of the ones who might be turned to their cause because they might just as easily make things worse—Warren was under the council's control now, but he wanted the boy to rot rather than risk him hurting the sweet witch; Jonathan and Andrew were too easily swayed toward playin' at Big Bads; Robin Wood might discover Spike had killed his mum, and that was a mess Spike didn't want to revisit.

"And in weapons," Wills continued. "Troll hammer, which we're still working out. Slayer Scythe. And Giles heard a rumor about some kind of power-draining stone in LA. Plus Dawnie's got the Dagon Sphere."

"What about Toth?"

"Huh?"

Everyone directed their attention to Harris. "You know, that Fugulee Mugulee wand thing that split me in half? Double the Xander, double the fun?"

"Ferula Gemini!" Anya shouted, her blond curls bouncing with the realization.

Willow pointed at Xander with the marker so emphatically that it went flyin' across the room, only missing Harris because of her lack of aim. "It separates you into your passive and aggressive halves."

"Ben and Glory," Spike and Rupert said as one.

"What's Ben got to do with it?" Tara asked, wringing her hands.

"I was thinking separating the god from her mojo," Harris said. He winced in confusion at Spike and Giles' conclusion. "If Toth wanted to separate Slayer Buffy from normal girl Buffy, we might be able to tear apart Glory from her powers as a hell god. Then kill the crazy non-powered side of her, and wham-bam-thank you, ma'am."

"At any rate," Rupes said, ignoring Tara's question, much to Spike's relief, "we should definitely look into it."

"What's the Slayer Scythe do again, Blondie?" Faith asked. She ran her fingers through her loose dark waves. It was hard to tell when Faith was using the affectionate term for Spike or Buffy.

"Well, it's cool," Spike said, wagering she meant him. "It's got this axe head, and a stake attached. Real handy in a fight." He tightened his lips. He could tell them, didn't mean they'd use it for this. "Red used it to activate the Slayer army last time. One of the things I gotta keep her from doin' again." Spike shrugged, an apology in his expression directed at Willow. "By order of the bloody Powers."

"But, hey, slice-y, dicey, stabby is still good." Buffy patted Spike's knee. "Where is it?"

"A vineyard or somethin'. They had to do some major form o' diggin' to get to it."

"Power tools? I'm your man," Harris said.

"You should probably have a Slayer with you, too," Buffy said with a nod.

"What'm I, chop liver?" Faith gave Buffy's calf a love-slap with the back of her hand to show she was only joking.

"Faith," Rupert said. "I was actually hoping you might accompany me to LA, to see if Angel might be willing to access his resources to find the stone. If the rumors hold up."

"Sounds like a plan," Faith said.

"And we're on witchy dimension-seeking troll hammer duty," Willow said, motioning toward Tara. The brunette witch only nodded gently.

"So that leaves you an' me, Lady Vengeance," Spike said, nodding toward Anya.

"D'Hoffryn always liked me," she said. "And I'll see if he has any clue how to build a Ferula Gemini while we're at it."

"So, what, we get all this together and kick some major Glory ass next weekend?" Buffy asked. Her voice was light and joking as she batted her eyelashes at Giles.

"Well, actually, using the documents Spike retrieved from Doc, it seems there's a very tight window in which Glory will be truly vulnerable. And given our previous encounters that indicate her imperviousness, we'll have to wait to strike at her until..."

"Let me guess," the Slayer said, pointing a finger at Giles. "May-ish?"

"Well... yes."

"Clockwork on the hellmouth, man," Faith muttered. "I can see if some of the mayor's old boys might know somethin', too," she offered. "A lot of 'em were sweet on me."

"Do we have to work around school schedules?" Giles asked.

"Nope. We're free 'til just before the wedding." Willow brightened up as the sentence went on, her eyes findin' Buffy's. The pair of them giggled.

"Speakin' of," Faith said. "Black dress alright for a groomswoman?"

The blond Slayer raised one skeptical eyebrow in Faith's direction. "So long as it's more dress than skin, that is a-ok by me."

"And I, uh, got the flowers taken care of by the way," Tara said. "All whites. Dahlias, orchids, lilies of the valley, and calla lilies. Plus we've got this spell that helps keep flowers fresher for longer. It's a whole energy of the earth balancing act."

Buffy grinned, first at Spike and then at Tara. "Very cool."

XXXXX

Buffy and Xander had checked out four wine cellars already. Spike had some vague recollection of where they'd gotten the Scythe the last time, but he said that, in the end, it was Buffy who had found it. He'd confessed to Buffy once they were alone, the same night of the planning with charts, that it was the night he'd held her in his arms, the one he'd told her in the hospital was the best night of his life. She'd apparently snuck off to go and find the thing, and succeeded.

Xander brought along the sledgehammer, happy to put his construction-boy knowledge to use. They walked side-by-side. Buffy kept trying to stay one step ahead of him, to keep him safe, but Xand seemed to catch on pretty quickly and, though he hadn't said a word about it, was having none of that.

"So Anya's really excited about the bridesmaid thing," Xander said. He was resting the heavy side of the sledgehammer on his shoulder.

Buffy, meanwhile, was wielding Spike's favorite broadsword, the one they'd been keeping in their closet on Revello Drive since the time Dracula broke into her room. "Who's gonna break it to her that she doesn't get a prezzie out of the deal?" Buffy smirked.

"I'm sure as hell not going to tell my ex-Vengeance demon girlfriend any bad news any time soon. In case you didn't catch on, she's big with the punishment of men."

"We should put Faith up to it," Buffy joked.

They were in the heart of the wine cellar now, and it was pitch black in here. She stumbled over a wine bottle she couldn't see, Xander managing to grab her arm before her butt hit the floor. What she wouldn't give to have Wills with them, too, so their witchy best friend could make pretty Tinkerbell lights and they could see where the hell they were going.

"Any special Slayer vibes goin' on there, Buff?"

"I dunno. Should I be able to tell there's some special weapon down here for me?"

Xander exhaled, slowly. "I'm so large with the not knowing."

Buffy blinked when she saw a yellow glow in front of them. Xander followed her to it, and they crossed a threshold. The room was all stone walls with lit torches hanging from them. Buffy kept to the walls, running her hands alongside them. They were thick with dust, and it made her hands all gross and grimy. Buffy grimaced, rubbing her palms onto her jeans.

"Uh-oh."

Buffy spun around at the sound of Xander's voice. He was looking at the floor in the center of the room. Buffy followed his gaze and saw the big, obvious trap door there.

"Well, that smells like a ruse," Buffy muttered, shuffling over to it.

"I cannot tell you how bad an idea it'd be to go down there," Xander said. "Well, aside from _very_. It's a terrible, terrible idea, Buffster. We should go grab everyone else and launch an army of Scoobies down there, just to be safe."

Buffy felt like something in her head was humming. She crouched down next to the door, her hand resting on the handle. "We need people protecting Dawnie at all times," she said. Her voice was soft, distracted. The humming, like a bug zapper that never stopped, was getting louder. "Plus, the others are off getting us weapons, too. We don't have the people to spare, Xand." She lifted the door.

"Well, why don't you let me go down there first? Just to make sure it's safe for you."

When Buffy looked up, she saw the sweet concern in Xander's eyes. But she was the Slayer, one of the Chosen Two, as Faith liked to say. Buffy handed Xander her sword to go along with his sledgehammer. And, before Xander could say another word, she dropped down into the trapdoor.

"Buffy!" Xander shouted.

Buffy looked around. More tan stone, more torches. And, exactly in her line of sight, a red axe head stuck in a stone, its metal center and wooden stake end sticking up in the air. She heard two clanks and a thud and spun around. Xander was curled up in a ball on the ground behind her, the sledgehammer and sword off to the side.

"Ow."

"Oh my god, Xander," Buffy said, rushing to his side. She helped him to his feet, making sure he wasn't too badly injured. Aside from a bad bump next to his eye, he seemed okay. "What the hell were you thinking? Did you break anything?"

Xander laughed, which turned into wincing. "Only two major organs. No big, right? Besides," he said, finally standing on his own and rubbing the back of his head, "you did the same thing."

The two of them faced the stone with what Buffy concluded had to be the Slayer Scythe.

"This should be fun," Buffy said. The humming was still alive in her ears, but it was... calmer now.

"The glorified bricklayer has this," Xand said. Buffy couldn't help smirking at one of Spike's names for her friend. Xander picked up the sledgehammer from the floor and limped over to the stone. He raised the thing above his head and smacked the heavy end down on the stone. It didn't hurt the stone holding the Scythe at all. Xander shook his head and swung again. This time, it let out a loud metal clank. The head of the sledgehammer went flying toward Buffy and she had to duck it. As it made a dent in the stone wall behind her, Xander himself got knocked on his butt. "Or not," he wheezed.

Buffy edged toward the Scythe. She realized, then, what the humming was. As she got closer, it got clearer. Reaching her hand out, she pulled the weapon from the stone. Once her hand made contact with the cold metal, she heard them. All the voices, so many layers of them that some drowned out others:

 _You talk about slaying like it's a job. It's not. It's who you are._

 _There's only me. I am the law._

 _I always was a bit of a badass. 'Sides, you've got a party to attend, right?_

 _You know I love you, but I got a job to do. The mission is what matters...right?_

 _We're not supposed to exist together._

 _The hardest thing in this world is..._

 _Miles to go - Little Miss Muffet counting down from 7-3-0._

Buffy gasped, her vision spinning. She felt it. The raw power of all the slayers. She could hear their voices. Some of it from dreams, some from memories, some of it her but... different, somehow. All of it majorly weird.

XXXXX

"Blessed be, the name of D'Hoffryn. Let this space be now a gateway to the world of Arash Ma'har, where demons are spawned. We come in supplication—"

Anya's chanting was interrupted by the sound of thunder and a huge plume of smoke springing up by the door to the sewers. Spike convinced her to use his old crypt as their summoning point. No one really stuck their nose into your business at a Sunnydale cemetery. Now Spike and Clem stood in the corner by the crypt door, Demon Girl standing in a circle of pine needles she'd made.

"Anya, sweetie?" The smoke cleared, and a Vengeance Demon with curly hair and a tight red dress appeared from it. "What's wrong? Is that human boy not treating you right?"

"Hallie!" Anya sprung to her feet and pounced her friend with a hug. "Where's D'Hoffryn?" Anya asked, pulling away.

"He's a busy guy, Anyanka. You know that. So he sent me." The demon smiled, then eyed Spike and Clem up. "Who're your demon friends?" Her eyes narrowed at Spike.

Now he remembered. The spell on the house, when Dawn was feelin' lonely and neglected. The parlor in London, when he had his heart ripped out before Drusilla stilled its beat forever.

Balls.

"William?"

"Uh... Uh..."

Anya's head weaved back as she looked between her vengeful friend and the vampire. "Wait, you know him?"

"I... No..." Cecily... Or Hallie, as Anya'd called her... ran her hand over her hair.

"Yeah, hundred plus years, easy to forget the bloke you ridiculed, eh, pet?" Spike raised his scarred eyebrow.

"William, after all these years, you're still holding _that_ against me? It was lifetimes ago!"

"Pft. I don't care. I'm all set to marry the gorgeous, strong, witty woman I love." Spike crossed his arms over his chest. "And it's Spike, if you don't mind."

Hallie rolled her eyes, scoffing. "You know, a guy falls in love with you while you're on the job and suddenly you're supposed to drop the vengeance you're all set to wreak on awful parents to listen to his..." She sighed, shaking her head and taking Anya by the hands. "Anywho, how are you, dear?"

Anya shot a look over her shoulder, clearly regretting having brought Spike to this little get-together with her. He might've just screwed them on any help they might've gotten out of Anya's vengeance pals. Spike grumbled, leaning back against the wall of the crypt. Clem tapped him on the shoulder.

"She's pretty," Clem whispered, a big, goofy grin on his face. Spike couldn't help a smile himself.

"I prefer my Slayer, if I'm honest."

"Yeah," Clem sighed. "If you're into tight skin, I guess."

"Ideally," Anya said, clearly wrapping up a long speech, "we'd like to send her to another dimension. Hell, her dimension would be just fine. We just don't want her making a tear and raining the world that's only shrimp on our heads."

"There's a world that's only shrimp?" Clem said. He licked his lips, ears flopping. "That sounds delicious."

Hallie and Anya raised their eyebrows at him, but it didn't dampen Clem's bright expression. Hallie rubbed her thumb over the dark blue talisman hanging from her neck. "I'd love to help you, Anyanka, but you know we're not supposed to interfere with slayer business."

"What if I made a wish?" Spike said, peeling himself off of the wall. "What if the hell bitch wronged me and I wish she'd never existed?"

"Well, for one thing," Anya said, "a god is too powerful for a vengeance demon to wish out of existence."

"And for another," Hallie said, her voice snippy, "I only go after bad parents. Seeing as how Glorificus isn't a parent at all..."

"Then there's gotta be a patron demon of wronged men? Or men affected by death of the woman they love? Somethin'?"

"Wait. I thought you said you were marrying the woman you love?"

"I am."

Anya rested her hand on Hallie's forearm. "It's this whole Powers That Be mumbo jumbo. Asking will only hurt your head."

"Oh, I hate them," Hallie whispered. "And I'm afraid I can't help you." Hallie moved her fingers like she was going to snap them and poof on out of there, but Anya's voice stopped her:

"Wait."

Hallie did.

"If you can't help with that, do you know the spell to make a Ferula Gemini?"

Hallie giggled. She snapped the fingers of one hand. Smoke covered it, and once it cleared an ancient-lookin' scroll was there. "Now _that_ I can do." She handed the parchment to Anya. "I hope it helps, sweetie." Hallie looked to Spike. "And William? I hope it works out with the girl." She smiled. "I really did like your poetry."

Hallie snapped her fingers and, where she had stood, a pillar of white smoke took over.

"Poetry?" Anya and Clem accused at the same time.

"No one says a word to anyone," Spike grumbled, stalking toward Demon Gal. Slayer was the only other one who knew about that, and he intended to keep it that way. "What've you got?"

Anya squinted at, mouthing something to herself. Then she stamped her foot. "Damn it!"

"I can read eleven demon languages," Clem offered, edging toward them with hands wringing. "If that helps?"

"No, I can read it just fine." Anya shoved the spell into Spike's hand. He scanned it quickly. Lady Vengeance got impatient and pointed to the first sentence after a list of ingredients. _The five virgins must be sacrificed under a blood moon._

"Sod." They needed to kill five innocent kids to make the damn wand that would split Glory and Ben. Killing Ben would be bad, he guessed, but worth it if it meant savin' the Bit. Five more innocent lives?

"Do we even _know_ that many virgins?"

"Uh, more to the point, pet? We're tryin' to save one, and slaughterin' more would probably undo the good part o' that."

"Yeah." Anya's lips tightened. "And the damn Scoobies get all self-righteous about virgin sacrifices."

Spike smirked. "Humans, right?"


	21. Chapter 21

_Prepare for feels._

 _Dedicated to Rinso, Taste Like Special, and RAGAnne._

Chapter 21

The venue Anya had found for the wedding was full of Scooby women. Spike, Xand, Clem, and Faith were all at Giles'. Drinking scotch, if Buffy had to guess. Buffy was in one of the back rooms of the venue. Dawn, Joyce, Willow, Tara, and Anya were all running around like chickens sans heads. Buffy stared at the dress hanging from the full-length mirror, the white dress she'd purchased a month earlier. The door to the room opened and Joyce slipped in, closing it behind her.

"What's wrong?" Buffy asked, eyes wide. She'd spent her whole birthday wondering when the other shoe would drop.

"Nothing, sweetheart," Joyce said, laughing Buffy's concerns off. "I just wanted to let you know it's almost sundown. The others will probably be on their way soon."

"Oh. Good."

"Also..."

Buffy's breath caught in her throat, and her eyebrows raised.

"I have a gift for you."

"Mom, you didn't have to..."

Joyce pulled out a box wrapped in shiny blue paper from behind her back. "Oh, well, if you don't want it..." she teased, taking a step backward toward the door.

Buffy simply held out her hands, grasping. Joyce grinned and approached her daughter, handing over the gift. Buffy tore off the paper. She tried to push away some of the bad, emotional thoughts as she did this. She'd already cried seven times that day; it was verging on pathetic. Part of Spike's reasoning for doing the wedding so early—he was worried about her mom getting sick again, wanted her well for the ceremony before they had to worry about kicking more cancer ass. Buffy sniffed as she opened the box.

"I figured you had something old—the garnet necklace Spike gave you for your birthday last year. Your new—the headpiece from Dawn. Willow said she'd take care of something borrowed. I thought this could be your something blue."

"Mom." Buffy's mouth hung open as she gaped at the inside of the shoebox, the white tissue paper parted. Inside were a pair of way high-end satin blue heels with crystals on the toes that matched the waistline of Buffy's wedding dress. "This must've been a fortune."

"Well, I was owed a couple of favors. I know they're not exactly the color of Dawn's dress, but—" Joyce was cut off by Buffy throwing her arms around her shoulders. Joyce returned the embrace, stroking Buffy's back. "You deserve to be so, so happy. I'm glad you could find that with someone, Buffy."

"I love you, Mom." Buffy appreciated just getting to hold her mother. When they told Buffy her mom needed surgery a couple of months ago now, even knowing it from Spike and from Giles' fortune telling connections well ahead of time, the bottom of her entire world fell out. But she had her mom now.

"I love you, too, Buffy. So much."

The door to the room swung open and the Summers women pulled apart. Dawn, dressed in her dusty blue chiffon bridesmaid dress, stuck her head in. "Oh. Buffy. Hi!"

"What'd you do?" Buffy demanded. "And will it require fire extinguishers to fix?"

"God, I didn't do anything!"

Buffy and Joyce exchanged a knowing look.

Then Anya ran in from down the hall. "The cake is vertical again!" Dawn visibly sighed her relief.

"Is that some kind of code for something?" Joyce asked.

Dawn cringed. "No. The guy we got the cake from didn't layer it right or something."

"Last time I ever trust a demon baker, let me tell you," Anya said with a little wrinkle between her eyebrows. "When Xander and I get married, it'll be all boring human catering."

Buffy cracked a smile when she wondered if Xander knew that he and Anya apparently had plans to get married.

"But the good news is Tara and Willow used a quick spell and everything's fine!" Anya continued.

"Good to know," Joyce said.

"Hey, Anya," Buffy said. "Can you go grab them? It's probably about time for hair and makeup, don't you think?"

"Ooh, here! I'll get your hair accessory!" Dawn sprinted into the room and started rummaging around over by the wedding dress hanging on the mirror. Buffy and her mother watched Dawn in silence, Buffy taking a breath to appreciate all of this as she remembered Dawn's advice to take every chance to be happy.

XXXXX

Spike was going to heave.

He was standing at the top of the aisle in his tux. The processional music, some classical thing, chimed out of the CD player. To his right, Tara stood in a long pink dress, behind her a table decorated with all sorts of flowers and crystals and such. Harris and Demon Girl (wearing the Slayer's choice of apricot dress and carryin' some white flowers) were the first pair up the aisle. (Anya wouldn't let Red, who'd made out with Harris in high school, or the Dark Slayer, who'd done the nasty with him, walk at Xander's side.) Next up the way was Willow (also in apricot with the same flowers as Anya) and Faith (in a slinky black number). Finally, Dawn, arm linked in Clem's, glided up toward them, giggling. As each of them reached the end of the aisle, they split, the men and Faith lining up behind Spike, the ladies behind where the Slayer'd be standing.

Then she appeared: On the left, Joyce, in a long dark blue dress. On the right, Rupert, in the same style of tux as Spike, Xander, and Clem. And, in the center, walking toward him, was Buffy. She wore a one-shoulder, soft, floor-length white dress that made it seem like she was floating. She wore Dawn's gift in her hair, which was upswept save for a few blond curls framing her face. The bouquet of white flowers in her hands was bigger than the girl's head. And, around her neck, he found the bronze and garnet gift he'd given her just one year earlier.

Buffy reached him. Spike just let his mouth hang open as he looked his girl over. He'd dreamed it, sure, during the will be done spell. Nothin' he could dream up ever could've compared to the real thing. She passed the flowers off to Bit, who was grinnin' from ear to ear. Harris shuffled over to the CD player and killed the music.

Buffy was here. She was marrying him, with all her Scoobies offerin' full support. Spike wondered if, maybe, he was still in heaven. When his eyes started to well up, he cleared his throat, determined not to fall into being a full-on ponce if he could help it.

"Hi," Buffy whispered as though she'd only come down to the kitchen for breakfast.

Spike laughed, and he wasn't the only one. He took the Slayer's hands in his. Her tan fingers, his mother's pearl ring, against his pale ones, the garnet ring she'd gifted him. Their hands shook together. "You're a vision," he said.

Next to them, Tara shifted on her feet. Wills handed off a long white ribbon to her. "As your hands are joined," the brunette witch said, "so are your lives. I... I think Spike and Buffy have their own vows?"

Buffy nodded. She locked her gaze with Spike's, her green eyes shinin'. "Before Willow put that spell on us, I can honestly say I never once imagined this happening. But what you've done, for Dawn, for me, for all of us... You've made everything so much better. It doesn't matter if we have a demon to kill or Mom needs us to grab groceries or we just need a night to watch bad kung-fu movies. All of those things, from here on out, I imagine doing with you. You're my partner. You understand me, and love me. I want to spend the rest of our screwed-up hellmouth lives together, fighting the good fight. I love you Spike—William. All of you."

Talk about your unique vows. Spike brought her fingers to his lips for a quick kiss. He could hear the people around them snifflin'. For the sake of not doing the same, he tried to block 'em out. He wanted to get this right, remember the parts he wanted to use as exact as he could. "Slayer," Spike said, diggin' around in his future knowledge and hoping he'd keep this straight. "A hundred plus years, and there's only one thing I've ever been sure of: You." Once Spike accessed the memory, the words flowed from him as though he'd spent his whole un-life committing them to memory. "I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I've seen your kindness, and your strength. I've seen the best and the worst of you and I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are. You're a hell of a woman. You're the one, Buffy." He grinned. "And I'll dedicate every last minute I got left in me to keepin' you safe an' happy an' loved. That's a promise, sunshine."

Buffy squeezed his fingers. Then Tara wrapped the white ribbon around Spike's right hand, binding it to Buffy's left.

"And so the binding is made," the witch said. Spike glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, saw her rubbing away tears. She smiled in spite of them. "Let the spirits bless this union. You may kiss."

Spike's free hand curled behind Buffy's head, and hers behind his. They kissed each other, chaste but lingering just beyond the point of decency. Everyone in attendance clapped. When Buffy and Spike pulled apart, they offered their bound hands over to Tara and she unknotted the ribbon. Buffy and Spike smiled at each other, the way they had when they'd had their false engagement. Giles and Harris started bringing around little clear plastic cups full of amber liquid. Once everyone had one, Rupert raised his glass.

"To Buffy and Spike."

Everyone raised their own. "Buffy and Spike!"

They each gulped down what Spike only then realized was apple cider.

That was when they heard heavy thuds against the front doors of the building.

The doors burst open. Every one of them moved at once, all in different directions. Buffy lunged for her mum. Spike went for Dawn, figurin' this might be Glory or her groupies. He shoved Dawn down into a crouch, dragging her with him around the table Tara'd been standing in front of. Tara and Clem were crouching back here, too.

"Stay with her," Spike said.

Tara nodded, jaw held tight. She laid a gentle hand on Dawn's shoulder. Without waiting for a response from Dawn, Spike leapt to his feet and started away from them, clearing the table just before a magic barrier surrounded the two ladies and his best man. Giles was using his body to cover Joyce. Anya was unzipping the Slayer's wedding dress like they'd planned for this or somethin'. Meanwhile, Faith and Harris were doing hand-to-hand with two... commandos. They looked like Initiative commandos, dressed in all black. Red was chanting at two more of them, then stamped her foot.

"Eh, screw it! Ignis!" The second Wills said it, the two commandos coming her way each had a flame combust on their sleeves.

That was when Spike sensed the one coming in from his right, toward Joyce. Spike ran, tackling the pillock to the ground and getting in a couple of good hits on his face. Once his body stilled with unconsciousness, Spike jumped to his feet again, shifting into game face. His girl stood at his side, barefoot and wearing a knee-length white silk slip.

"The door," she said, moving her head toward the front entrance.

Harris smacked to the ground just as the Dark Slayer hit her commando on the side of the head, knocking him out. Then she attacked Harris'. Spike and Buffy raced for the door just as a hulking figure in black walked in. Spike knew that scent. Buffy, clearly not mucking about on their wedding day, kicked the wanker at full force in the groin. He went down instantly, writhing on the floor but still very much conscious. Buffy and Spike looked back into the room. Faith was cracking her knuckles, Anya holding a smashed apple cider bottle in the air, and Willow still exuding some of that magic fire from her hands. Everyone else was on the floor, for one reason or another.

"Everyone important in one piece?" Spike shouted.

Clem stood from behind the table, and Spike noticed that Tara's barrier spell was down. Clem gave Spike the thumb's up.

"Alright, who wants to explain why ninjas just attacked my damn wedding?" Buffy demanded, a hand on her hip.

"Buffy?" the commando on the floor groaned, still in serious (well-deserved) pain.

Buffy squinted over at Spike. Spike rolled his eyes, yanking the commando from the floor. Since all the other commandos were currently incapacitated, Buffy stomped back over to where she'd abandoned her dress. She stepped into it as the Scoobies got to their feet. Wills helped zip Buffy back up. Tara held her arm around Dawn as they stood as one, and Rupes did the same with Joyce. Harris, meanwhile, looked worse for the wear as he held his arm on the floor.

"You know," Spike said, every baser instinct telling him to stick his fangs into the man he held and suck him dry, "I thought we told you lot that this was our territory and that you should shove off."

"Who the hell are these freaks?" Faith said.

"See for yourself," Spike answered, ripping off the mask of the man he was holding by the arm, the same way he had during the spell that made Sunnydale silent.

"Riley?" Buffy said, stepping back into her bright blue high heels.

"You gotta be kidding me!" Dawn squeaked.

"I say we send him to where Warren is," Willow suggested, darkness lacing her tone.

"All in favor?" Anya agreed. She seemed to be in serious want of some vengeance, if the glower she was directing at Finn was any indication. Before the poll could be taken, Finn began to speak.

"We tracked a Frovalox demon up here from Central America," Finn said. "We took care of it, but there's high HST spikes in energy and we were ordered to take the source of it out."

No one could help the quick peek at Dawn. Spike growled. They were after one of his girls. Captain Braindead had already hurt his Slayer before in lots of little ways. Had tried to let them bloody chop her up in the labs this time 'round. Same as they'd done to the sweet witch who'd just married 'em. Dawn came flying at Finn like a bat outta hell. She slapped White Bread so hard in the gob that Spike almost lost grip of him.

"How dare you," she said. None of her usual girlish shriekin'. Her voice was as low and serious as Red's had been, as much as it had when, in the previous timeline, Dawn'd threatened that Spike would wake up on fire if he hurt Buffy. "This is Spike and Buffy's _wedding_ ," Dawn continued. "And you crashed it because your machines are morons and you don't listen to the people who actually know how to, like, take care of the kinds of stuff on a hellmouth?"

"Dawnie..." Riley tried.

"Only her friends call her Dawnie."

Everyone turned to Tara, slightly shocked at the bluntness of her words. She glared straight at Finn, not even faltering for a second.

"So these are the government types, huh?" Faith said. She and Buffy approached Riley. Spike let him go because, between the Slayers and Bitty Buffy, the bastard was goin' nowhere.

"Yeah," Buffy said. "The 'we like to experiment on girls who we know nothing about' government boys."

Their exchange was familiar, practiced, level-headed. And Spike could smell the resulting fear sweating off the boy. When Finn squinted in Clem's direction, Faith took sharp hold of Soldier Boy's face, her dark red painted claws digging into his skin.

"Here's the deal, studly. You apparently don't listen to the well-founded threats of a hundred year old vamp and his wicked badass Slayer girlfriend. Oh." Faith turned to Buffy and smiled. "Sorry. Slayer wife." She turned her attention back to Finn. "So how's about this? You get out. You stay out. You come back, and we will have the Watcher's Council tie your boys up in so much paperwork you won't be able to take a piss for the next fifteen years without a permission slip to drop trow. You feelin' me?"

"I can't control where we're ordered to go."

"Oh." Buffy took a sharp inhale of breath. "Wrong, wrong answer. Now Faith's gonna get cranky."

Faith laughed. "B knows me well, what can I say?"

"Giles?" Buffy called, crossing her arms over her chest. "Call Travers. Tell him to do whatever he's gotta to make Riley and Riley's friends stay away. That if he doesn't, we're going to have to renegotiate the 'no killing humans' clause of the Slayer contract."

Spike knew his girl was playing with her food, bluffing to defend Dawn because she would defend the ones she loved to the death and back. That was when Finn passed out.

"Psh," Dawn said, sneering down at him. "What a girl."

"Alright," Joyce said. "Rupert, I think that phone call might be wise. In the meantime, do we want to do some pictures? You girls have that spell handy, right?"

"Ooh! And then cake?" Dawn shrieked, bouncing.

Spike took in the room again, the wannabe ninja bodies layin' everywhere, the Scoobies (even Harris, now) standing victorious. The Powers had a sick sense of humor, but they really couldn't keep this lot down, no matter how hard they tried. Willow, wearing an expression of pure annoyance, slipped a couple of quid to Rupert. If Spike had to guess, she'd lost the bet on whether or not this birthday'd go off without a hitch. Buffy came up to Spike , throwing her arms around him and kissing him. He was a part of them now, and he was gonna fight by their sides with everything he had.


	22. Chapter 22

_Dedicated to Taste Like Special, Rinso, RAGAnne, Devoted to Meiko, and my guest reviewer!_

 _Thursday's chapter features Buffy and Spike's honeymoon. See ya then. ;)_

Chapter 22

Somehow they'd gotten Joyce to listen and, despite not really having any symptoms besides the occasional forgetfulness, she was laying in a hospital bed to get everything re-scanned. Spike didn't know who had done it. He was almost certain it wasn't him. Might've been the Slayer, or the kid sis, or even the Earth Mother. Whoever was responsible, he was grateful. While all the others had school and work to attend to, Spike sat next to Joyce. It still made him smile that they were both fans of _Passions_. He always thought the lady had good taste. Bloody liked him better than the Great Forehead, dinn't she? The show flipped from Theresa and Ethan looking at each other in silence with tears in their eyes to a commercial.

"So what're your plans after you're done babysitting me, Spike?"

Spike blinked himself out of his thoughts, turning to Joyce. She'd bullied the nurses into keeping the blinds shut by claiming her light sensitivity was actin' up. "I'm not... I mean, I just thought you'd want the company."

"I appreciate it." Joyce smiled. It didn't quite reach her eyes. Spike realized, in the craziness of everything between the wedding and trying to thwart Glory and keeping the little Summers woman safe, he hadn't really stopped to check in on Joyce all that much. "But you have to admit, you _are_ kind of babysitting me."

Spike clasped his hands and ducked his head. He hated reliving the same hell he'd gone through with his own mum. Wouldn't make the same mistakes, and they're'd been loads of medical advances, but... It still felt the same. "Right. Well, Slayer... Uh, Buffy an' I... We were lookin' at patrolling with Xander and Willow and Tara and Faith. Split up into two or three teams, maybe, cover more ground. Keep lookin' for..."

"The hell god who wants to kill my daughters?"

Spike flicked his eyebrows. "Won't let her touch a hair on their pretty heads."

"I know. I remember."

Spike tilted his head. What did she mean by that?

"Your promise," she elaborated. "That they'll be alright."

"Right. Of course." He'd made that promise a million times over, and not only to Joyce. He wouldn't be saving Buffy every night in his dreams this time 'round. If the Slayer died, he wouldn't be around to see it, 'cause he'd be dust first.

"I'm holding you to it, Spike. That Buffy will have your support, no matter what. Even if..." Joyce chewed her lip, glancing up at one of the machines next to her, which was turned off. She took a beat, then reconnected eye contact. "Even if I have to haunt you to do it."

"Now Joyce." Spike leaned forward in his seat and grabbed Joyce's hand. Her grip was soft, frail. "None of that. You'll be fine, too."

"Rupert told me, Spike. About the last time. The time you came back from. How I died, how his fortune teller friends haven't seen that changing. And I'll still fight like hell to get better. But... there's only so much we can do. I'm not delusional."

He remembered Tara and Dawn's conversation in this hospital, when Dawn was pissed that Spike hadn't kept Joyce from gettin' sick. _Bad things happen. No matter how hard you try, you can't make everything perfect. You can't keep every bad thing from coming true._ Spike broke contact with Joyce and stood, beginning to pace the floor.

"Well, they predicted Buffy would die four years ago," he said. "She has a way of laughing in the face of this sorta thing." He felt every muscle in his body tensing the more he thought about this, wanting to fight despite having nothin' to trade blows with.

"Buffy won't accept it. But if it _does_ happen, Spike, you need to help her. With Dawn, and everything. I know she'll be alright, but she..." Joyce sighed. "She's so strong, sometimes she doesn't know when she's taking too much on."

"'Specially when she's already got the fate of the world on her shoulders," Spike grumbled.

XXXXX

Buffy huffed, getting to her feet again. She'd come by the hospital with Dawn. The doctors were running her mom through an MRI again (or, at least, she thought that was the scan this time), and Spike was sitting with the two of them in the waiting area. Spike kept tapping two cigarettes against his thigh like drumsticks. Dawn was pretending to do homework, but mostly she'd been staring off. When Buffy brought this up, along with how pissed their mom would be if she failed history, Dawn asked if she could grab a soda down the hall, just to get a sugar/caffeine boost. Buffy gave Dawn some coins for the vending machine. She was distracted, kept thinking about everything that was going on, standing up, pacing, sitting, twirling her pearl wedding ring around her finger, flipping through the channels on the hospital TV, pacing.

It'd been ten minutes, at least. It felt like forever. Buffy wove her fingers into her hair, searching the face of every person around them. No Dawn. Dawn knew better than to freak them out like this. Which meant something really bad. But Spike said he hadn't seen Ben anywhere around here in the couple of hours he was here with Joyce alone. No Glory, no minions, no one related to her in any way. He'd checked the place out. It was safe. Buffy shouldn't have let herself get lost in the worry. She should've been paying more attention, offered to go with Dawn. But she just kept thinking, What if something went wrong? What if the doctors needed her to, like, okay something to try and save her mom?

Buffy's whole face dropped with concern. She twirled around to face Spike and he was immediately on his feet. In a smooth movement of black leather, he grabbed her hand and started tugging her down the hall toward the direction Dawn had taken. Apparently he was on the same page. They semi-sprinted to the vending machine about halfway down. Coins were scattered along the bottom of it. Buffy clutched at Spike's hand. He took a deep couple of breaths, clearly trying to catch a scent, his cheekbones more pronounced as his cheeks hollowed. Buffy knew that face. He'd figured out something bad and was trying to find the way to fix it. Spike tilted his head to the end of the hall. Buffy matched him step for step as they continued along, and then took two turns.

Then it was Buffy's turn to sense something majorly awful. Demon tinglies of the worst kind, and she could just barely pick up on two women talking. She broke her grip on Spike, barging into the nearest room. Dawn. Glory. Glory had her fingers in... There was this green light all around Dawn's head.

Buffy froze for a moment, and in her hesitation Spike vamped and charged Glory, splitting her away from Dawn. Dawn cried out and Buffy rushed to her. She wrapped her arms around her sister, guiding her toward the door. Glory flung Spike at the wall, and Buffy heard something crack that wasn't the drywall. Buffy flipped a table on its side, lowering Dawn, who seemed kinda dazed and definitely freaked, letting her sister hide behind the makeshift shelter.

"Stay down," Buffy whispered. Dawn only nodded, her eyes wide and panic-stricken as she looked over at Spike crumpled on the floor.

Buffy rushed Glory this time, wishing she'd been able to take the Scythe into the hospital without getting in trouble with security. She decked Glory twice in the face, but Glory only laughed, licking the blood from her lip.

"That all you got, sweetcheeks?"

"Oi! Hell skank!"

Glory spun around and Spike hit her in the gut. Buffy took advantage and swept Glory's legs out from under her. They couldn't do any real damage. Giles had told them about the window. They needed a way to get Dawn out of here safely, and to keep Glory away from their mom. Glory was standing again, and she backhanded Buffy before Buffy even processed her hand moving. Then she side-kicked Spike, who skidded across the floor.

"Tell your boyfriend to watch his mouth," Glory said to Buffy, smiling and working the crazy eyes.

"He's not my boyfriend." Buffy grabbed Glory's arm and flung her into a wall with x-ray stuff. Buffy recognized it from when they found the shadow in her mom's brain. "He's my husband."

The glass Glory bashed into electrocuted the hell god before she fell to the floor. Spike was at Buffy's side again. She could tell, just from her periphery, just by the way he stood, that Glory had done some actual damage.

Then something weird happened. Glory turned into Ben.

Why was Ben in the room?

Why was Ben wearing a red dress?

Dawn stood from behind the table, leaning on it for support. Buffy rushed to her sister's side, wrapping her arm around her middle. Ben scrambled to his feet, looking around at each of them, then down at his choice of outfit.

"Oh god," he muttered. "Did I... Did she hurt any of you?"

"Spike," Dawn said, her voice soft. Buffy turned to face him. One side of his now human face was purple, and he wasn't standing on his leg quite right.

"I'm fine, Niblet," Spike said. "As for you, you spineless git," he growled at the man in the red dress. "If you had any wrinklies at all, you'd help us defeat your psychotic sister and save the sodding world."

"I can't."

"Why the hell not?" Buffy demanded. Her face clouded over with anger, with a pure Slayer expression, dark and feral. Her sister had almost died. Spike had almost died. "Why the hell are you working with her?"

"It's complicated."

"Sing me a new one," Spike said, nose curled and lips pursed. "That one's gone stale."

"I'm not strong enough. God, I'm sorry." With that, Ben bolted from the room.

"Are you okay, honey?" Buffy asked, combing back some of her sister's hair.

Dawn nodded. "She can't touch me."

"What's that, Bit?" Spike limped closer to them.

"She tried... She tried to suck my brain, like she did with Tara in your timeline," Dawn said, jerking her head toward Spike. "But The Key energy..."

"It's not time," Buffy muttered. "That's what Giles said about killing her. Maybe there's a window for her being able to even touch The Key." Buffy wrapped her arms around Dawn's shoulders and held her sister tight. "I'm just glad you're alright," Buffy said.

Dawn held her right back. Buffy felt Dawn tugging at something, and before she realized what that was about, Dawn had convinced Spike to wrap his arms around them both.

"Not to end the warm fuzzies," Spike said, "but maybe we should call in some back-up?"

"Right." Buffy pulled apart from the both of them. "Spike, do you need blood?"

"Quite a bit, yeah." Spike glanced down at his leg. It looked like his knee was inverted.

"Oh, baby..." Buffy covered her mouth. It could've been a lot worse.

"We'll need to give the other Slayer and the Wiccas a call. Tell 'em to get here right this second." Spike dragged himself toward the table Buffy'd knocked over to shield her sister. He picked up a crappy wooden cane and handed it to Dawn. "Ben ain't immune to a good knock over the head, I'd wager. Just in case." Dawn accepted it like he'd given her a sword.

"Dawn, can you wait just outside of that door?" Buffy asked. She didn't want her sister alone right now, but they'd just scared Ben and Glory off and they'd literally be within shouting distance. There was something Buffy needed to take care of without Dawn around. "I just want to talk to Spike for a minute."

Dawn's eyes shifted between her sister and her brother-in-law. "Sure, I guess. Don't mind me. Just... awkwardly going out into the hall now..." And then Dawn did just that.

"What'sa matter, Slayer? We need to get a move on."

"What you need is blood." Buffy pulled her hair off of one side of her neck, tilting her head. "And we need you at full fighting power to help keep her safe 'til the others get here. I can't worry about Mom _and_ Dawn. I can't be in two places at once. I can keep Dawn with me, but we need to make sure Glory's gone."

"Love, you don't have to do that." Spike ran his hand up and down Buffy's bare tan arm. "I can nick some from the blood bank."

"Mine is stronger. Please? I need your help, Spike. A hundred percent, right now. Not a hundred percent in six hours."

Spike bit his lower lip, eyeing up her neck. She could tell he wanted to, but that he wanted to turn her down, too. He was... he was afraid, wincing. He thought he might hurt her, or maybe that she felt like she had to. Buffy took a deep breath. She stood on her toes and kissed him, softly, on the lips. Then, a hand to the back of his head, she lead his lips to her throat. She felt his face shift as he laid a gentle kiss on her collarbone, then her shoulder. Finally, he moved up to the blood pumping a couple of inches below her ear. His fangs sank in and Buffy's grip tightened in his gelled platinum hair. He only took three sips, but when he ran his tongue over her skin to wipe away any dripping and then pulled back, his face was already beginning to heal.


	23. Chapter 23

_For RAGAnne, Rinso, and Taste Like Special._

 _Buffy and Spike's honeymoon. Mostly smut, with a dash of fluff for good measure._

 _Saturday's chapter will have some echoes from the post-Adam Slayer dream. And then next Tuesday shit starts to get real serious real quick._

Chapter 23

Buffy did not want to leave Sunnydale.

Things had been relatively quiet for a couple of weeks. Her mom was on pills that were agreeing with her. Dawn hadn't so much as failed a test. Even the vamp count was down. If Glory had caught on about Dawn being The Key, then she sure wasn't acting on that fact. That was when they all sprung it on her and Spike: everyone had chipped in for a hotel on the beach about an hour away so they could take a weekend to themselves. Buffy and Spike hadn't gone on their honeymoon yet, and the others wanted to make sure they got that in before Big Bad showdown season crept up on them. Willow had made a color-coded patrol/Dawn-sitting chart for the fridge and everything.

Buffy could hear Spike pacing on the other side of the bathroom door. She'd been in here since they'd gotten back from the boardwalk. She'd gotten her hair touched up and slipped into her white lace babydoll nightie. Now she was staring at the paper bag that Anya had given her the day of her wedding.

"Slayer, would you just come out?" Spike finally said. "You looked just fine before. There's no reason to fuss about it."

"Grumpy impatient vampire," Buffy mumbled.

"Oi! I heard that."

"With his grumpy impatient vampire hearing," Buffy mumbled again, smirking because she knew he'd heard her. She grabbed the bag from the floor, took a breath, and opened up the bathroom door. Spike was laying on the hotel bed in his t-shirt, jeans, and boots. "Hi," Buffy said.

Spike snapped up into a sitting position, his mouth hanging open. Buffy knew she picked the right outfit that day if she could render him speechless. "I... Uh..." His blood was very obviously flowing in a direction that was not his upstairs brain.

Buffy licked her lip, enjoying the attention. "So I come bearing gifts."

Spike eyed up the sheer lace, lingering around her chest. "Right you are, love."

"Not just that." Buffy walked to the bed, sitting on the end of it. She set the paper bag between the two of them. Spike raised an eyebrow, craning his neck to peer inside. Buffy laughed, reaching into the thing. She pulled out the lotion Anya had included in her gift and grinned.

"You, uh, lookin' for something there, pet?"

Buffy shook her head. "Nope." She moved the bag to the floor and let the lotion go on the bed. Biting her lower lip, she reached forward, rolling Spike's shirt up over his head and tossing it to the floor by the bag. Spike reached forward and touched her lingerie, but Buffy stopped his hand against her waist. "Nope," she said. "Turn around."

Spike pouted, giving her the once over one last time before turning with his legs hanging over the edge of the bed. Buffy picked up the lotion, squirting some into her hands. She rubbed her palms together and they got all warm and tingly. When her hands settled on Spike's bare shoulders, Buffy could tell the lotion warmed him instantly. He sighed, his whole body relaxing. Buffy leaned forward, pressing herself against him and letting her lips graze his ear.

"You like that, baby?"

He only made a soft moan in the back of his throat, which she took as a good sign. She pulled back again, working her hands down his spine, kneading, then back up along the back of his ribs. Spike clutched at the sheets under him. Buffy kissed the side of his neck, then his shoulder. She wrapped her fingers around his bicep, scratching his skin lightly. His eyes fluttered shut and he gasped. Buffy grabbed the lotion bottle and hopped off the bed. She set it on the floor and then walked around in front of Spike. Spike's eyes opened and he tilted his head at Buffy, reaching for her hands. Buffy squeezed his hands before releasing them. She kneeled on the floor. Buffy went to work getting his boots off, moving slowly to make sure she didn't twist anything the wrong way.

When she was done, Spike grabbed her by the hands again, lifting her in one smooth motion into his lap. They started kissing, his hand in her hair, her hands against his back. Buffy felt her limbs relax as she got lost in the kiss, in the way their tongues and lips moved together, in the slight tang of nicotine leftover from Spike's most recent cigarette. Not parting, she traced her hand along his chest, friction every place their skin touched. His hand moved down her arm, cupping her breast, his thumb gliding over her nipple. She moaned, throwing her head back. Spike took advantage, letting his lips linger with kisses down the middle of her throat.

Buffy laughed. Mustering all of her will power, she pressed Spike back on the bed, his head resting against the pillows. He leered up at Buffy as she straddled him, him only wearing the black jeans and her only wearing the sheer white lace. Buffy held up a finger.

"Stay right there." She jumped off the edge of the bed.

"And what if I don't, Slayer?" Spike propped himself up on his elbows, watching her move. "Gonna punish me?"

"Well, if you don't stay there..." She bent over (purposely teasing Spike by keeping her backside in his full view) and grabbed her personal addition to the bag. Buffy waved the chocolate syrup bottle as she spun around. "Then what am I going to do with this?"

"Right. Staying right here," Spike said, laying back down on the bed.

"There's a good vampire."

Buffy returned to the bed as Spike glared at her. She popped the top of the syrup, using it to draw a line from the center of Spike's chest down to his navel. Then she gathered her loose curls over her shoulder, pinning them with her hand. She positioned her knees on either side of Spike's thighs again. Then Buffy traced the chocolate with her tongue, starting at the lowest point and moving up his body. When she finished, she hovered over his lips, her own lips chocolate covered. Spike leaned up, licking away the excess from the corners of her mouth.

Buffy sat back up, shifting to sit a little further down his legs and grabbing Spike's hand. She drenched one of his fingers in the chocolate. He opened his mouth to say something. Before he could, she wrapped her lips around his finger, sucking away the syrup. Spike's free hand found her hip, clutching with so much pressure that Buffy wriggled, heat building up inside of her. She abandoned the syrup and unbuttoned his jeans. When her fingers grazed his skin, a smile cracked open on Spike's face. Buffy tugged at the jeans, then tossed them. She leaned forward, wrapping her lips around his length. His hand found hers. Fingers laced, she ran her tongue along the underside, moving more quickly as her heart sped up. His fingers pulsed in the same rhythm.

Buffy lost herself in the movement of it all, in the connection and sensations. She didn't know how long they spent this way, but when she pulled her mouth away Spike sat up and brought her face to his. They kissed, gentle and tender. Buffy smiled against him, realizing she hadn't once since they started thought about anything responsibility related. It was nice. Before Buffy could plan her next move, she was flipped back against the bed, blinded by her own hair. Spike cleared it away from her face, then planted a kiss on her forehead.

"Now, naughty Slayer," he whispered, his voice husky and intimate. "What other tricks do you have in your bag, hmm?" He left the bed. Buffy could hear the paper bag crinkling, and then Spike laughing. "Well then. This'll do." He returned, sitting next to her and looking her over. Buffy saw in his hand the silk red handcuffs that'd been part of the gift. "And whaddya know? It's my color." He leaned forward, lips brushing her ear. He ran her earlobe between his teeth, a soft pressure. Then he was speaking again. "Take off the gown, Slayer." When he pulled away, his gaze was dark and lusty and made her buzz all over. She sat up and reached down to the hem, rolling the white lace slowly up her body, then over her head. Buffy handed it to Spike, who stuffed it on the nightstand. "Now lay down," he said.

Buffy bit her lip and laid back on the bed. Spike sat on top of her. She could feel his length close to her own heat and she squirmed. He reached up and secured the red silk around her wrists, re-adjusting her arms so her hands were bound above her head. Spike just sat there a minute, taking in the look of her. He let his hand explore her flat tummy, wandering south just long enough to brush her clit with his thumb. Buffy whimpered, her hips moving with the touch. Spike rested the full weight of himself against her, chest to chest. His face hovered just above hers. Buffy could feel the breaths that he didn't need to take against her lips. Then something in his expression softened, just slightly.

"You're a bloody goddess, you know that?" Spike kissed her.

Buffy let her eyes lower and then find his again. "Says the statue of perfection," she replied.

Spike trapped his tongue between his teeth, migrating down her body. He pressed his lips along the outer edges of her split. Buffy closed her eyes, desire swirling up in her lower tummy. Then he ran his tongue inside her folds and she cried out his name.

XXXXX

They'd been going at it for hours. Now they had the telly turned on to some late night talk show they weren't really paying attention to. They lay naked on the bed together. Spike sat against the headboard, dragging on a cig with one hand as his other arm wrapped around the Slayer's shoulders. Buffy rested her head on his chest, drinking from a water bottle. Spike couldn't help the memory of one of their post-shag non-conversations, the one where they'd been under the rugs and she'd kicked him in the head with her virtue fluttering.

But that was before he'd been sent back. It was quiet moments like this that he appreciated the most about their new and improved relationship. He could just lay with her warm little body at his side, listening to her strong heartbeat, for the rest of time. Now that was a real heaven.

Buffy re-capped her bottle, shoving it over to the nightstand. She pulled a sheet up over the two of them, snuggling even closer to Spike as she wrapped an arm around his middle. Spike put out the cigarette on the ash tray to his right and kissed the top of her head. He caught a glance at her hand, at the only thing she was currently wearing—her wedding ring. Spike didn't know that he'd fully come to terms with the fact that Buffy was his wife. It was more than he'd ever thought to ask for, and surreal in the best possible way. Spike's nose twitched. Had to keep that poncey poet under control.

Buffy's breathing had slowed. Spike stole a look at her face. She'd dozed off against him. She looked so peaceful, a peace he thought had been forever robbed from her when she first confessed to him and only him she'd been torn out of heaven. And here she was, sleeping, managing to forget her worries for a moment at least, loving him and loved by him.

Spike half wished, as he started to doze off himself, that they could stay in this place forever, that he could relieve his girl of all her burdens. He knew it was selfish and unrealistic, that the two of them would be fighting the good fight side-by-side and protecting the Scoobies for all the time they had left on this sad little planet, but, for those few moments, he indulged the fantasy.


	24. Chapter 24

_Dedicated to RAGAnne and Taste Like Special._

 _So many hints in this chapter, not just for this story, but for the next... ;)_

 _See ya Tuesday, when the proverbial shit hits the proverbial fan._

Chapter 24

Spike rested against the brick building. He'd snuck out the back door of The Magic Box for a quick smoke. It was past eleven at night, but the white hats were burnin' the midnight oil to continue expanding their Glory arsenal. Joyce had even let Dawn spend the night with them, since it was a Saturday. With all of them about, fighting over who got what donut and whether or not such and such a demon might help them, Spike couldn't help but miss the secluded beachside locale from the weekend before. The back door opened up and, keeping an eye over her shoulder, Faith emerged. She was wearing a red tank top, her jacket removed at some point, her arm tatt exposed.

"Thought you were teachin' Pint Sized some moves, Lehane?"

"Even slayers deserve a smoke break, right?" Faith pulled one from her pocket, reaching it toward Spike. He lit hers with his own, then returned it. Faith nodded her thanks. "Plus, the runt drop-kicked the arm off the dummy. Figured it was time to call it quits for the moment." She leaned on the wall next to Spike.

Spike puffed out his lips. "Now that's no way to talk about Harris." He and Faith laughed. "Why don't you go home? Get some kip?"

"I'm not big on sleep these days." Faith flicked some ash to the ground.

"That so?" Spike observed her. The Slayer's hand was twitching, her lips drawn down. Easy enough to miss if someone weren't lookin' for it. "Nightmares 'bout teddy bear monsters?"

She grinned. "Man, I wish. It's not nightmares. It's slayer dreams." She tilted her head back to stare up at the starry night sky. "Which, when you think about it, is pretty much the same thing, ain't it?"

"If what Buffy's told me's any indication, yeah."

"I've been havin' it for a couple of months, since about the New Year festivities. There's this blue electricity. Some flashes of other stuff, like the afro slayer by the desert bonfire when we kumbayaed. Only B isn't there. And that slayer tells me some kinda bullshit about counting down from 7-3-0, and that 'death is your gift' crap. Then I'm standing on somethin', staring down into darkness. There's this song. Like an old lullaby or somethin'. Sounds like a lady singing it, with your kinda accent. The electricity shows up under me. And I hear you talkin' about slayer blood, how it's always blood." She took a drag. "Gotta love the screwed up acid trips, huh?"

 _Blood is life, lackbrain. Why do you think we eat it? It's what keeps you going. Makes you warm. Makes you hard. Makes you other than dead. 'Course it's her blood._

 _Her blood smells like Slayer blood, pet. They made her from you._

 _And she had slayer blood; just not the whole package. It might make it easier to..._

Spike knew what Faith was seein'. The tower. The blue electricity. It was where Buffy'd made the jump before. The portal couldn't tell the difference between Buffy's blood and Dawn's blood. They were made of the same stuff. Slayer blood had its own taste, with different undertones dependin' on the girl, but mystically it was linked. If the portal opened, it was possible Faith could jump in Dawn or Buffy's place...

Spike eyed Faith in his periphery, her hand shakin' still. She had helped 'em all more than once, had fought by their side, had come to help keep Dawn safe without battin' a pretty eyelash. He took a deep breath. Easy enough solution: Never let Glory get a hold of Dawn. Never let Dawn's blood spill. Keep all of them in one piece. Hell, he and Faith had already taken care of Doc. They'd made sure of that. Even went to Willie's once or twice to make sure no one had heard about Doc still slinking around. And Spike hadn't gotten a whiff of him on a single patrol.

Easy. Don't let the blood spill.

XXXXX

Days later Spike and the Earth Mother were taking one half of the cemetery, his Slayer and Wills the other. The witches figured they'd put one magics type and one fist fightin' type on each team. They wanted to cover as much ground as possible. Dawn was at The Magic Box with Harris, Anya, and the Dark Slayer while they continued research for "anything useful," which seemed like a mindless task to Spike. Giles was at Revello Drive, making sure the Summers mum took her meds and got some rest. They figured she might take the parenting better from someone who wasn't young enough to be her kid, or looked it.

Spike stopped for a second. Tara took a couple more steps, then spun to face him, her face scrunching up and worried. He could've sworn... He smelled something familiar. Something from his memories, his dreams. Soured roses and antique lace and metallic blood. Spike shook his head. He was imagining it. He didn't know why, but he was imagining it. He vamped by instinct.

"Spike, what's wrong?" Tara asked. She looked all around them, but the graveyard was still and silent. The witch wrapped her arms around herself.

"It's nothin', pet," Spike said. He shook his head again, trying to push away his delusions. Somethin' wasn't right. "Jus'... be on your guard, a'right?"

Tara chewed her lowered lip and, when Spike started walking again she stayed at his side, not more than half a metre away from him. Spike stopped his unnecessary breaths, using his enhanced sight to comb over every last inch of their surroundings. Slayer and Red would catch up soon enough. The familiar scent still unsettled him, made him question just what the hell was happening. He was coming off as mad. The witch was sweet and tried to hide the judgment in her eyes, but he could tell by the twitch of her fingers and the slight tilt of her head that she was picking up on somethin', either just in the way he was acting or in his aura or some witchy somethin' or other.

"Remind me when we get back to The Magic Box," Tara said, clearly attempting to calm him with a distraction. "I bought some more burba weed for you."

"Didn't have to do that, love," Spike said, keeping his voice low and his ears sharp. "I coulda paid Anya for it."

"You have limited funds. I've tried to insist Joyce not pay me for working at the gallery. Might as well use it to buy my friends gifts, right?" Tara smiled her signature lopsided smile with closed lips.

"You're sweet," Spike said. "Speakin' of, Faith said the chamomile and valerian tonic worked wonders. No dreams keepin' her up now."

"I'm glad." Tara studied her long skirt as she walked. "A sleepy slayer is a careless slayer."

"And you, pet, have officially been spendin' too much time with the librarian."

That was when he heard it. More of his memories haunting him, taunting him. Singing, in the distance. The tune that no one could possibly know, not now, not in this timeline...

Spike stopped again. He spun in a circle, his duster fluttering. Tara's heart rate doubled next to him. He was causin' her to panic.

"Spike, _what_?"

"Get up your spell," he growled, still in game face. "Now."

She started chanting softly, but Spike couldn't hear her. Not over the singing...

"Early one mornin', just as the sun was risin'. I heard a young maid singin' in the valley below."

Spike gritted his teeth, eyes narrowing. Tara couldn't seem to find the source of it either. A thin barrier of blue light surrounded her as she continued her search.

"Oh, don't deceive me. Oh, never leave me." That was when Drusilla emerged from behind a tall stone pillar. "How could you use a poor maiden so? There's a pretty boy. And look," Dru said, leaning to the left. "He's got company for tea."

"Drusilla, what're you doin' back in Sunnyhell?"

Buffy was gonna be pissed. This was the last thing she needed to worry her pretty little head about.

"I missed my sweet Spike," Dru said. She was wearing a long red lace dress, swaying on her feet, dancing to music only she could hear, maybe even what she'd just been singin'. She couldn't have known that song. Spike had never told her about it. Then again, Dru did have the sight. "The pixies whispered in my dreams and told me to keep the pretty boy makin' the wheel turn in the other direction." She stuck out her lower lip in a pout, ducking her head. "No one wants to play with me anymore. Daddy is sad and grandmother can't make it all better. I want to dance in the moonlight, but no one will take my hand." Drusilla approached him, her hand extended. Spike stayed perfectly still where he stood, focusing on the heartbeat of the good witch at his side. Had to keep her safe, keep her from gettin' hurt if Dru lost her temper.

"Princess, I'm not the same man I once was," Spike whispered. He transformed back to his human face. "Lot's changed since I saw you last."

"Silly Spike. I see." Drusilla giggled. She motioned over his head. "Her sunshine surrounds you. And you have the spark now." She patted her chest over her heart, then wiggled her fingers and swayed her hips. "It's clear as electricity zap-zap-zapping in the sky."

"This... this is, um, your ex-girlfriend?"

Spike tilted his head toward Tara, nodding once.

"She's, uh, quirky?"

"You're from the place where I see things," Dru babbled on. "Sweet Spike. You're from the place where my visions come to pass. Only they don't want them this time. They want to spin the wheel and watch the pretty swirlies change their shapes. Once sunshine sets, the world shall not know day again. But you are the moonlight. And the other..." Drusilla giggled. "I have a singer and a dancer waitin' for me. But I'm too early and the place is quiet."

"Uh... Right. Well, Dru, look, it's not that I don't want to see you, a'right? But the Slayer an' I... We got hitched, pet, and I don't think she'll fancy you bein' around town. Plus, there's the matter of the hell god. She might hurt you."

Glory and Drusilla—now there would be the crazy-off of the century.

Drusilla dug her fingers into her hair, whimpering and stamping her feet. "Why didn't I get invited to the party? I have such pretty dresses and nowhere to wear them!"

"You do have a very pretty dress," Tara said. Spike turned to her, raising his scarred eyebrow. Tara shrugged, lowering her hands and, with it, her magic barrier.

"Oh, Spike," Dru said, a wide manic smile cracking open her face. "I like her very much."

"The Earth Mother's sweet like that."

"Hmm." Drusilla's eyes narrowed as she hummed in the back of her throat, the way she did sometimes before she told him about a vision of hers. Tara shifted under Drusilla's gaze. "You can see more than the others, delightful little witch, like me but different, with your pretty lifeforces that sparkle like rainbows." Drusilla took two steps back, recoiling, her lower lip wobbling. "I see the place your mind goes when the bad lady hurts you. Spike." Dru turned to him, her face downcast. "Don't let the bad lady hurt the girl. Like Daddy hurt me. Don't let her..."

"Not gonna happen. No one's layin' a hand on a hair o' that girl's head. I swear it."

Just as he was swearing it, Spike saw Buffy and Willow approaching from behind Dru. This would be very bad very quick. Dru spun about before the other two reached them. She pointed a scolding finger at Buffy.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Wills demanded.

"You are to take good care of my boy," Drusilla said, ignoring Willow and speaking directly to Buffy. "If you don't then I shall be very cross and you will go to bed with no supper."

Buffy's eyebrows shot up. Her eyes found Spike's, and he used his arms in a "bleedin' hell if I know" shrugging gesture.

"I'll take good care of Spike," Buffy said, her words coming slow. Spike noticed Mr. Pointy in her hand. Buffy shifted her grip, tightening her fingers around the stake, but she kept her hand at hip level. Buffy knew what Dru meant to Spike, like Spike knew what Angel meant to her. She was holding back, not going after Drusilla, to spare him pain.

"Broken dollies might get their fixin'," Drusilla said. "Can't change it all. Not unless you'll pay the price." Drusilla pointed behind herself, at Spike. "68 kilos of flesh and one old coat. He'd do it. For the right person, he'd do it. You'd only have to say the word. Spark's a spark's a spark." Drusilla laughed, turning to face Spike. "Will you call me for your next party? I love parties."

"Sure we will," Tara whispered.

Dru's entire face lit up and she clapped her hands together. "I'll bring the candles and dollies like a proper fairy godmother!"

Drusilla sprinted forward and, without warning, kissed Spike's cheek. Before he or Buffy could protest, Dru ran off into the night giggling. Buffy shuffled up to Spike, her eyes wide and her brain obviously occupied. She looked like she did when Dawn got taken in the last timeline, when Buffy went catatonic for hours.

"Summers? What's wrong?" Spike took Buffy by the shoulders, holdin' on tight. He wasn't about to let her retreat into that head of hers.

"Buffy?" Willow said, voice low as she approached them. When she was close enough, Tara reached forward and clasped Willow's hand. The witches tilted their heads at Buffy, their eyes shinin' with concern for their friend.

"What Drusilla said," Buffy whispered.

"Love, half o' what she says is nonsense. Angelus shattered her mind into a million pieces. Poor thing." Spike sniffed, clearing his throat to refocus. He pitied Drusilla, mad and alone all for somethin' that wasn't her fault. But he needed to help his Slayer right now.

"It was the dream. The post-Adam Slayer dream. 'Can't change it all.' That stuff about 68 kilos of flesh. And sparks..." Her lips tightened.

"Well, we haven't been able to change it all," Tara offered. "Remember, Spike, that conversation we had with Dawn? When Joyce started getting sick?"

"Can't change it all," Spike muttered.

The fortune tellers hadn't seen Joyce's future change. Tara'd told him all the things he'd changed. What if he wasn't quick enough, clever enough? What if Joyce died? Buffy? Dawn? Faith had been havin' those dreams about jumpin' from the tower until they'd drugged her with the power of Wicca. The spark. That's what he'd called it, when he got his soul back, when he was mad. Too many threads, and none of them connected in a way that made much sense.

"Giles?" Willow said.

"Giles," Buffy and Tara said in unison.


	25. Chapter 25

_For Taste Like Special & RAGAnne._

 _Apologies in advance._

Chapter 25

Faith handed Spike her cigarette, and he took a drag on it. Harris and Clem both leaned against beams in The Bronze, waitin' for their chance to shoot some pool. The Dark Slayer, meanwhile, lined up the cue and took her shot. The witches, Anya, and Rupert thought they'd figured something out about the troll hammer, so they were back at The Magic Box handlin' that. His Slayer was at home with the mum and kid sis for some girl time. The best Rupes had sussed out from Drusilla's visit was that she might have been warnin' him about Joyce, which no one was happy to hear suggested, and that Tara's mind might be saved if they played their cards right.

Faith stood after her second shot. "Alright, X-man. All yours."

"I like being on your team," Clem said, grinning at Faith.

"People usually do," she said, returning the smile.

"Hey, Mr. Broody Vamp," Harris mocked.

Spike's head shot up. Xander took his shot and, of course, missed by a mile. "What's that, blood bag?" Spike grumbled. Clem approached the table.

"You're big with the being dark and mysterious over there." He held his pool cue vertical, resting his chin on the tip of it. "Didn't realize Angel was back in town."

Spike took the cigarette from his mouth, pointing it at Harris. "You watch your sodding mouth." He held the cig out to the Slayer, who took it back from his fingers, taking a puff herself.

Clem took his shot and did as well as Harris had. "D'ya want more of the onion blossom?" Clem asked, eyes bright as he leaned against the pole again. "I can go order one. Or four."

Spike smiled but shook his head as he lined up his cue and knocked one of his and Harris' stripes into the corner pocket. "I'm fine, mate, thanks."

"Still thinkin' 'bout what the old flame said there, Blondie?" Faith asked.

Spike got in one more ball before whiffing the third. "Yeah. Used to have a better read on her barmy talk. Couldn't really make heads nor tails this time. Aside from _really bad stuff_ _a'comin'._ "

Harris approached Spike and clapped him on the shoulder. "No worries there, Big Bad. I'll personally run the ol' hell god over with a forklift before I let her hurt Buffy or Dawn or anyone else." He smirked, sticking one hand in the pocket of his jeans. "Well, 'cept maybe you."

"Harris, you sweetheart you."

"You fellas need a room?" Faith called from the pool table.

"Shut it, Lehane," Spike griped.

"I'm just sayin'. 'sides..." She stepped away from the table, letting Xander have another go at it. "We've got enough firepower to take down a small army. Can't storm Gettysburg or nothin', but one hell bitch we can handle."

"That's true." Clem nodded emphatically. "The Powers That Be don't just send people back in time for any reason. There'd be no point if you couldn't make things better."

"I heard about Tara giving you the what-for," Harris said. "Don't make us sic her on ya."

Spike opened his mouth to retort, but his eyes wandered. Sitting, at the bar across The Bronze, drinkin' away without a care in the world, was Ben. The others immediately noticed Spike's distracted attention and followed his gaze.

"What's the matter?" Clem asked.

Xander looked between Ben and Spike and back again. "That's him? Ben?"

"Sonuva bitch," Faith muttered. She took a step forward, clutchin' her pool cue like a weapon (which, in her hands, it most certainly was), but Spike grabbed her by the tattooed arm. "Get your hands off me," the Slayer said, her voice dark as her glare.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Let's not do anything suicidally stupid here," Xander hissed, closing the distance between them. "Giles said that Ben is impermeable—"

"Impervious," Spike corrected.

"They mean the same thing," Xander said, waving him off. "But if you go in there right now, all you're going to do is get your Boston-born bum kicked."

"I don't care." Faith faced Spike. Her eyes were wide and desperate now. Her dreams. _Death is your gift_. Girl had figured out what Spike had: She might have to jump from the tower. She didn't want to. She deserved a shot at this. Wasn't just Dawn and Buffy at risk here. "You have to let me try," she whispered.

Spike squeezed her arm once and hoped it was reassuring, then he let her go. She sprinted off immediately toward the bar. Harris threw his hands up in the air.

"Spike, what the hell was that?"

"Prolly a bad idea," Spike said, not letting his eyes leave Faith. "Do us all a bloody favor? Call Buffy, and The Magic Box. Tell my girl to bring her Scythe while you're at it. And Clem?"

"Yeah?"

"Might want to spend the rest of your night at Willie's, or that crypt you inherited from me."

"Good plan."

Harris turned, watching Faith obviously flirt with Ben for a moment. "Yeah. Might see if Giles has the grenade launcher handy." He skeedadled toward the nearest phone.

XXXXX

When Giles' car pulled up to The Bronze, packed full with Buffy, Tara, Willow, and Anya, people were running screaming from the only real club in Sunnydale. Okay. So it was one of those kinds of nights. Buffy, Scythe in one hand and newly acquired troll hammer in the other, leapt from the car and sprinted against the stream of running Sunnydale residents, fighting her way into the door. The only people not making for the outside stood by the bar: Xander was wielding a pool cue that had snapped in half. Spike grabbed Glory by the back of her shirt and tossed her into some stools. When Glory stood, Faith decked her. Glory backhanded Faith, sending her flying toward Buffy. Buffy dropped the Scythe, reaching a hand out. Faith's face lit up when she saw her. Faith took Buffy's offered hand, pulling herself up just as Giles and the others came in.

Buffy held out the troll hammer and Faith took it. "I brought you a prezzie," Buffy said. "Courtesy of some mega witchy goodness."

"Just my size," Faith replied.

Buffy retrieved the Scythe from the floor.

"Can you direct her this way?"" Anya asked.

"Why's that?" Faith said.

"Anya showed us a teleportation spell," Tara said. "We can get it set up if you can, um..."

"Not a problem." Faith started toward Glory as Buffy followed. "So whaddya think, Buff? Hit her a couple of times, piss her off, let her chase us?"

Glory dug her hands into Spike's chest. Spike cried out, a sound that ripped apart Buffy's insides with sympathy pains. Buffy and Faith picked up the speed but Xander was closer. He charged with the broken pool cue like a javalin, poking into the center of Glory's chest. The cue splintered, though it tore Glory's shirt, and it fell from Xander's grasp. She released Spike, who crumpled to the floor, coughing. Glory picked up the biggest chunk of the pool cue left, stabbing Xander in the side so it poked through his back. Buffy felt the wind knocked out of her. She couldn't breathe as Glory pulled back the cue, drenched in blood, and Xander collapsed to the floor next to Spike.

It had to be a dream. A Slayer dream.

A nightmare.

Something.

Buffy wasn't controlling her movements anymore. She was simply doing, pure Slayer acting. She stabbed Glory with the stake end of her Scythe, and it made the hell bitch stumble back. Then Faith was swinging the hammer, knocked the right side of the god's face, then the left. Each hit clanged, but didn't do much to bloody her up.

"You know," Glory said, rubbing her lip with her thumb. "I wasn't expecting a threesome so soon."

"Some girls got all the luck," Faith shot back.

"Hey, Lady Perms-a-Lot," Buffy said, taking two steps back. Had to taunt her, get her away from Spike and Xander. Whatever it took. "Wanna know where your key is?" Faith followed suit, backing off.

"Sugar, I'm gonna make you _sing_ its location to me. After I'm done taking a tour 'round your teensy blond slayer brain." She tilted her head at Faith, following them step for step toward their back-up group. Buffy could heard Tara and Willow chanting. God, this was one dumb god. "How 'bout you, sweetie?" Glory asked Faith. "You mind being second on my list?"

"I'm not really one for second string," Faith said. "Giles?" she shouted over her shoulder.

"Now!"

At Giles' word, Faith jumped to her right and Buffy jumped to her left, the both of them skidding to the floor. Buffy watched as Wills and Tara blew some red glitter from the palms of their hands onto Glory.

Glory shrieked, mouth hanging open as she checked out her sparkly self. "Alright. Time to start with the dyin'." Her eyes met Tara's. "You look good enough to eat."

Tara reached for Willow's hand. The witches glared at Glory as she took a step toward them. "Discede!" they shouted.

And, in the blink of an eye, Glory vanished. Willow and Tara stumbled, and Giles helped them stay on their feet. Anya went running to the other side of The Bronze, screaming Xander's name. Everything went slow for a minute. Buffy heard her name, but she couldn't move, couldn't react. Spike was still laying on the ground. All she could see was his duster. Something was pulling at her arm, tugging at her, and it got her to her feet. Buffy turned, saw Faith saying something that she couldn't hear. Buffy dropped her Scythe, running toward where Anya kneeled at Xander's side. She kept moving, couldn't feel anything, collapsed at Spike's side. She grabbed one of his shoulders, laying him flat on his back. Spike's eyelids were fluttering, and Buffy couldn't tell if he was conscious or not.

"William," Buffy whispered. She shifted his head to rest in her lap, a hand on his cheek. "Spike. Please. Don't leave me."

He wasn't dust. He wasn't dust. Still alive. Buffy's eyes wandered down to his chest. Most of his black t-shirt was torn away, and he had two gaping holes where Glory had dug her claws in—one spot over his right lung, the other his heart. If Xander hadn't intervened, Faith and Buffy wouldn't have gotten there in time. Spike would be dead. Buffy stroked Spike's hair as he murmured. Buffy lifted her head, saw Anya checking Xander's wound. There was too much blood.

"Faith?" Buffy cried. The other Slayer was there in a flash.

"I got him, Buffy. You take care of your vamp." Faith handed Buffy her Scythe, then dropped the troll hammer. She moved for Xander, getting her one arm under his knees and her other his back. She lifted him and carried him toward the door of The Bronze. Anya followed, silent, her face red.

"Giles, can you get him to the hospital?" Buffy called without taking her gaze from Spike's face, reassuring herself over and over that he was still alive.

"Of course, Buffy," Giles called back. "Do you need..."

Buffy looked over her shoulder. She didn't need anyone judging her. She needed to do what she needed to do. And she didn't want the arguments, because there was one way to fix this, really. "I just need the room."

Giles nodded. Willow and Tara leaned on each other, limping out of The Bronze. Once it was only Spike and Buffy left, Buffy returned her attention to Spike. His eyes were closed, but he was grinning. Spike reached up, his fingers catching in Buffy's hair. He chuckled. "Goldilocks..."

"Spike, I need you to listen to me, okay? You gotta heal up. Also, probably a good idea to stop letting Glory kick your ass." Buffy kissed Spike. He hummed against her lips. Buffy laid on the floor, against his side. Her fingertips grazed the outer edges of the wounds on his chest. They were only a month or so out from the big Glory showdown, if Giles was right about that timing. Buffy took Spike by the upper arms, rolling him so they laid chest to chest. He was so weak that Buffy wasn't sure he could even get into game face right now. She guided his lips to the side of her neck. "Spike," she whispered in his ear. "I love you." She wrapped a hand around the back of his head, pressing his lips to her skin.

"Buffy," he groaned. She heard the shifting, felt the pinch. Stroking Spike's hair, she hoped this would work quickly.

XXXXX

An hour later, once Spike and Buffy both had time to recover (and maybe stolen a couple of sodas from The Bronze), Buffy dropped her keys at the end table by the door. The lights on the first floor were still on despite the fact that it was almost midnight. Dawn and Joyce had probably fallen asleep while watching _Steel Magnolias_ or something. Buffy closed the door behind them. Spike tapped her shoulder.

"I'll go put these somewhere safe," he said, voice low, as he dragged the troll hammer and carried the Slayer Scythe.

Buffy nodded as he headed toward the basement with them. She started for the stairs but paused when she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. Buffy turned and found Dawn sitting on the floor. Her legs were curled up to her chest, her lips pressed to her knees.

"Dawnie? What're you still doing up?"

"I called them. They had me try. It didn't work. I just went to grab popcorn." Dawn raised her eyes. She'd been crying. Buffy's stomach clenched. Dawn's eyes moved toward the couch. "They're coming," she whispered. "They said to wait. They should be here soon. They can help."

That was when Buffy saw her. Her mother, on the couch in her bathrobe, staring at the ceiling, pale white. Buffy shrieked, then covered her mouth. Spike came charging in, then came to a full stop at Buffy's side.

"No," he said, his voice low. "No, no, no."

The sirens whirred out front. Buffy buried her face in Spike's chest, still bloody from Glory.


	26. Chapter 26

_For RAGAnne, Rinso, and Taste Like Special._

Chapter 26

"Buffy, can you help me with the pie?" Joyce called in from the kitchen.

"Slayer's duty never ends," Buffy said, smiling at the others in the room.

Spike, Dawn, Faith, the Scoobies—they were all here. It was Christmas, between Buffy and Spike's engagement and marriage. Buffy stood from Spike's lap, kissing him softly on the lips. He grinned up at her just as Buffy heard Xand and Faith start to bicker behind them, something about how long a fight between Frankenstein and a slayer would last. Buffy glanced over her shoulder as she headed out of the room, Dawn still admiring the gemstone earrings Willow and Tara had given her while the witchy couple whispered to one another. Anya was tearing the plastic wrap off of some board game Giles had given her, and Giles was being all paternal and sipping on hot cocoa in one of the armchairs. Buffy finally dragged her butt out to the kitchen, where her mom had four different pies set out on the counter.

"So how do you think we should divvy this up?" Joyce asked. She was holding a silver pie server, looking between the different pies—apple, pumpkin, lemon meringue, and the mince pie Giles had brought.

"Hey! You promised me chocolate mousse pie!" Buffy pouted.

Joyce cracked a smile without looking up. "It's still in the fridge. I figured you and Dawn would want that one all to yourselves."

Buffy beamed, sprinting forward and kissing her mother on the cheek. "You figured right." She wrapped her arms around Joyce in a side-hug. "Just start slicin' and I'll bring 'em out on plates. Believe me, we bring them the pie and they will eat."

"When did you become such a philosopher?" Joyce tilted her face toward Buffy, smiling.

Buffy woke up, again.

For the first minute it always felt like things were normal. Then things started to rush back to her. Buffy would try to get back to sleep as reality started seeping in, but once that process started it didn't stop until she was sick to her stomach. Spike slept next to her, his face mashed into his pillow. Buffy got to her feet, shaking her head and trying to calm her heart down. Even with the vampires, even after having killed Angel, even after finding out her sister was molded from a ball of energy, nothing had ever felt this surreal before.

Her mother was gone. Despite with Spike's future knowledge, despite her mother getting sick, it'd never seemed like a real possibility. Buffy had just thought of it like she'd thought of Glory: they'd kick the ass of whatever came their way and everything would be fine.

When her hands started shaking, Buffy decided she could either pace a hole in the floor and wake Spike in the process, or she could go get some fresh air. She headed downstairs and out the back door. It was chilly at night, unusually chilly for Sunnydale in early April, but Buffy was only wearing a thin silky tank top and shorts. The cold was good, kept her grounded, helped calm her down. She sat on the back steps.

"Buffy?"

Her head snapped up at the small voice. She hadn't noticed Dawn leaning against a tree with one of the big quilts wrapped around herself.

"Dawnie? What're you doing out here?"

"Couldn't sleep." Dawn walked away from the tree, shuffling over in the wet grass and finally taking a seat next to her sister. "Bad dreams. You?"

"Good dreams," Buffy whispered. She curled her fingers around the edge of the step she was sitting on.

"Even worse," Dawn said. "Those are the ones that don't get better 'cause you wake up."

Buffy nodded, staring at the tree. She felt Dawn wrap one side of the blanket around her big sister's shoulders. Then Dawn snuggled up to Buffy's side, the both of the wrapped together in the quilt. It reminded Buffy of when she'd walked in on Dawn discovering she was The Key. Spike said that last time it'd turned out much worse, that Dawn had set a fire and cut herself and run off. This time... Something was different. Between them. Buffy had heard Dawn tell Harmony mid-hostage situation that she felt like she didn't matter. Buffy had made an effort, starting that night in the cave, to be a better sister. And now they were so close. They had that, at least. And the others, too. Buffy found her thoughts swirling a lot lately, memories creeping up on her that she'd thought were long forgotten. So it didn't shock her when Spike's words came to mind, from the night she was staked and they rushed her to the hospital:

 _That's the trick of the thing. This gig wears ya out. You need lots of reasons to keep goin'. The family you've got._

Buffy and Dawn leaned on each other, cheek to cheek, appreciating the chance to be silent and have the other person just get it. Not try to help, not try to fix things, but just deal. Sometimes it was just what the doctor ordered.

XXXXX

Spike and Faith decided they'd be in charge of patrols. Rupert had the funeral arrangements and helping Red sort out the finance paperwork for the house and such for the Summers women. Red, Harris, and Lady Vengeance were on Glory duty: research in the musty books, plus checkin' out the newest coroner's reports and the hospital's admitted, try to track the bitch down, know where Dawn should avoid goin'. The Scoobies on Glory duty were also searching for any other weapons they could stock up on before the window opened to take the Exalted Barmy One down. That time was coming quickly, and Spike just hoped they had enough time to recover before then. Tara's duty was keeping the Summers women in fighting form, which mostly amounted to getting them to eat and do their everyday routine requirements.

Spike and Faith were trudging through one of Sunnydale's many cemeteries, looking for anything big and bad to get a piece of. It'd been fairly quiet since Joyce passed. Spike felt like all of this was sprialing out of control, like the Powers had just sent him back to torture him. Given him what he'd wanted—Buffy's love—and any minute they'd tear her away, leave him here to spend an eternity without her. That train of thought sent him down a very dark path, one where he wondered if this was actually hell, payback for every evil thing he'd ever done.

"Oh," Faith said. "Here we go."

As they continued their stroll, Spike saw what Faith was talking about. Big ol' Chirago Demon. It looked like three Clems smashed together and it was impossible to find its face. Thing probably outweighed all the ladies of the Scooby gang put together. Still, Faith charged it without much in terms of seconds thoughts. Spike rolled his eyes, charging in after her. She lifted her special knife to stab at one of the demon's squishy folds as Spike vamped. When she pulled the knife out, the Chirago turned (or seemed to—hard to tell with no real face) and seemed unharmed.

The Chirago grabbed her by the throat with a grimy clawed hand and lifted her in the air. Faith got a couple of good kicks in on its torso, her combat boots cracking something. Then Spike punched the demon in the torso as hard as he could and it released Faith. From the ground, Faith sliced at the thing's ankles. It roared, which surprisingly sounded like its singing voice. It kicked Faith in the face, sending her skidding across the ground. When she jumped to her feet, three gashes lined their way down her face, dark blood shining in the moonlight.

The smell of the Slayer blood triggered something in Spike. He hadn't spoken much about what'd happened to Joyce, 'cept once, briefly, to Tara. He'd been on full support task, tryin' to balance being around for his Slayer and the Bit when they needed him, buggering off when they needed that.

But the truth was Spike was tired. He felt like enough of a failure as it was. Wasn't about to let anyone else get hurt on his watch, not unless he was too dusty to do anything about it. Spike growled, facing the Chirago again. He reached forward with such force that his hand went through the demon's front. Spike wrapped his fingers 'round something inside the Chirago that felt important and then tore it out. The demon fell so hard to the ground that it caused a minor earthquake in the cemetery. Spike looked at the goopy intact throat in his hand, then dumped it onto the demon. He shifted back to his human face, spinning about.

"You alright?" he asked Faith. Her skin was still glistening with blood.

"Nothin' some chicken soup can't fix," she said. Her eyebrows lowered and she jerked her head toward Spike. "Uh, you?"

"Peachy." Spike stalked in the opposite direction of the demon's body, back toward the exit from the cemetery, back toward Revello Drive. He needed to be with his girl. If Buffy would let him into bed, that was. 'Cause he was pretty sure his hand was going to reek of demon innards for a week.

XXXXX

Buffy sat next to Dawn at the kitchen counter. Dawn was pretending to work on some homework, but all she had written on her paper was her name and the date. Tara stood in front of the stove, stirring something that smelled amazing. Buffy wasn't sure they'd remember to even eat if Tara hadn't been cooking for them all the time. Willow finished sticking some papers into a cardboard envelope, then handed the whole thing to Buffy.

"Okay, so that's all the bills Giles and I put together from the past month, including from the hospital and the gallery. I sorted them with the ones with the closest due dates first. I also have a sheet in there with your salary against monthly expenditures, and even without Spike's offer to start selling demon parts to Anya for Magic Box inventory, you're still in the black."

Buffy raised an eyebrow. "Which is..."

"Of the good," Willow said, her smile small.

"Thank you, Wills. I can't tell you how much it means..."

"Literally the least I could do, Buffy. I just wish..." She wrinkled her nose. Buffy reached out and grabbed Willow's hand, squeezing, comforting them both. Willow leaned forward suddenly, throwing her arms around Buffy for a quick hug. "If there's anything else I can..."

"We're good." Buffy released her friend, turning to Dawn next to her. Dawn was drawing a tree in the margin of her paper. "For now, I think we're good." Buffy had been trying to figure out something to help, but there wasn't really an article in _Cosmo_ for "Ways to Help Your Little Sister Deal with Finding Your Mom Dead." And with everything else... It was a lot for one girl to handle. Buffy could relate.

"Alright. Well, I'm off to The Magic Box then. We came across something yesterday about the other two gods in Glory's hell dimension. Something about some demon god type thing named Sweet, and then another one that was all 'shall not be named.'" Willow walked over to Tara, kissing her on the cheek. "Anyone need me to grab anything while I'm out?"

Buffy shook her head. "Spike and Faith should be back from patrol any minute. Maybe... Maybe we'll go out or something. What do you think, Dawnie?" She stroked back some of Dawn's hair. "Anywhere you want to go? Ice cream, maybe?"

Dawn let the question hang in the air unanswered. Willow, with one more sad look at Buffy, headed for the front door. They heard it open and shut before Dawn spoke.

"Buffy, can I ask you something?" She dropped her pencil.

"Sure, honey. What's wrong?" Buffy, to keep from freaking, played with the edges of the envelope Willow had given her. She was glad Wills had offered to help, and wondered if she could convince her to do their taxes while she was at it, if she asked nicely and bought her mochas for the next year.

"Um, you've had dreams about, like, The Master and Angelus and stuff, right?" Dawn finally looked up, her eyes ringed with purple from how tired she was.

"Before and after going up against them, yeah." Sometimes Buffy would still wake up in the middle of the night convinced she was sensing Angelus outside her window, even though it was just Spike next to her. "Why?"

Tara ladled out three bowls of soup. She brought one each to the Summers women, then retrieved the last one for herself. Dawn brought the bowl closer to herself, using the spoon to swirl around tortilla strips inside.

"It's Glory," Dawn whispered.

"G-g-Glory?" Tara said. She stood on the opposite side of the counter with her bowl of soup, then took a spoonful of it.

"Yeah. Since... since she tried to brain suck me at the hospital. It's starting to scare me. I thought it'd go away after a week, maybe two. But it's been a couple of months now, and it's only getting more vivid."

"How often do you have these dreams?" Tara asked as Buffy ran her hands through her own hair and took a deep breath.

Dawn shook her head. "They're not dreams, exactly. Not always. They're like... Daydreams. Really real daydreams."

Buffy's eyes widened so suddenly they stung.

"That's not normal, is it?" Dawn winced.

"On a hellmouth, normal is relative," Buffy said. "But.." She glanced at Tara sideways.

"I can look into it," Tara said. "With Giles and Willow, and maybe Anya might know something. But... I mean, sometimes a daydream is just a daydream, right? And you've been through so much recently, the both of you..." Tara shrugged, ducking her head.

It couldn't be real. If it was something Glory could do, talking to Dawn long distance like that, she would've done it in the last timeline, and then Spike would've warned them. It was weird, sure, but it could be Dawn trying to deal. Buffy knew the likelihood of things not being worst case scenario on the hellmouth were about nil, but they had to hold onto that unless Tara and the rest of them proved otherwise.


	27. Chapter 27

_For RAGAnne & Taste Like Special._

 _Fair warning: Right now it's looking like this will finish out at 31 chapters. Then all that'll be left is the final story of the trilogy, which is going to take a bit of time to write, for lots of reasons. But you might notice some hints here and there from Making the Clock Reverse and Counting Down From 7-3-0 that foreshadow some stuff from the last story of the trilogy, if you're into that sort of thing._

 _In the meantime, enjoy this chapter and see ya Tuesday!_

Chapter 27

Spike heard Buffy's heartbeat quicken next to him. He opened one eye, saw the moonlight streaming in her bedroom window. He was laying on his stomach, Buffy on her back at his side, his arm draped over her. She was having some kind of bad dream again, whimperin'. Spike stroked her bare shoulder. Buffy jolted awake, sitting straight up and surveying the room. Her chest rose and fell with short breaths as she grounded herself. Spike had seen or felt this happen to his Slayer near every night since they'd found Joyce on the couch. He didn't mention it except to generally ask how she was doing in the morning, and he was starting to wonder if she'd try to shoulder the burden alone.

Buffy slid completely from his grasp, getting to her feet. She padded over to the window, running her hands over her hair. Spike groaned, then slumped out of bed himself. Buffy spun about, jumping a bit in place. He walked toward her.

"Sorry, Spike. I didn't mean to wake you up." Buffy wrapped her arms around herself. Her heart was beatin' away a million miles a minute.

Spike rested his cold hands on her warm shoulders. "What's the matter, pet?"

Buffy glanced to the side, like she was ashamed or somethin'. "Just big with the broodiness these days, I guess. Trying to keep everything straight in my head... and help Dawn... prepare for Glory, and all while dreaming about..." Her eyes found Spike's, their shine betraying how close she was to breaking down right then and there. "I miss her so much, Spike."

Spike wrapped his arms around Buffy, resting his chin on the top of her head. She shook in his arms, sobbing. The way her body trembled against his, the scent of her tears, it all made his stomach churn. The demon he saw about the soul in Africa, he made deals. Spike could make a trade...

"What if I could get her back for you?"

Buffy pulled away from him, her cheeks sparkling. "What?"

"Joyce."

"How?"

Drusilla's words echoed in Spike's head, the way her nonsense prophecies did sometimes, just at the right moments: "Bloke I won my soul from. He might trade me. Soul for her life."

"No."

"No?"

"No. I need you." Buffy made a scared, sad, soft little sound in the back of her throat, like a squeaky hiccup. "I can't lose you, too, Spike. I can't lose anyone else."

"You wouldn't. I could..." Spike dropped his head, picking at the polish on his nails. It wasn't a trade he wanted to make. He'd fought to near second death for the sodding soul. But anything that spared Buffy pain would always be worth it. "I could still figure out a way to control myself. It'd just be the soul. I'd still be around. I wouldn't be Angelus. I could..." He closed his eyes, winced. "For the right person, person I loved, to keep you out of the pain... I'd do it. You'd only have to say the word, Buffy, and I would do any damn fool thing you asked."

Buffy grabbed one of his hands with hers. Spike lifted his head, trying to read her mind through her expression. He didn't get a whole lotta gazin' time in, because she almost immediately used her free hand to slap his bare shoulder.

"You idiot!" she hissed, clearly keeping her voice hushed for the sake of Dawn's sleep down the hall.

"Oi!" Spike growled.

"Let's get one thing straight: I need all of you. Spike the vampire, William the soul... Every piece. I fell in love with all of you. Besides..." Buffy shifted on her feet, grinning to herself. "Just think about how totally pissed Mom would be if she knew what you'd done."

That twisted the knife for him. He'd made a promise to the lady, to help Buffy, to be at her side so she could keep it together, have someone to lean on even when she didn't always know she needed it. Girl could take care of herself, would until the pressure of it all drove her bloody mad. She needed someone who supported her in everything.

He'd made a promise to a lady.

With her free hand, Buffy lowered the blinds on their bedroom window, well in advance of sunrise. "Let's go back to bed, huh?"

Buffy tugged him by the hand, leading him there. She sat on the bed first, in her little silky purple nightie. Spike crawled in next to her, wearing only the thin sweats she'd bought him. He laid his hand against her cheek, kissing her. When he pulled back, her eyes were searching his. Buffy laid her hand on his thigh, stroking.

"Thank you," Buffy whispered.

Spike blinked. Clearly he'd missed something.

"For everything," Buffy continued. "For being here. For understanding how hard this is. Helping to keep us all safe and..." Tears spilled from her big green eyes again. "You make me feel so strong and special. Even when I'm crying like a big baby." Buffy brought his hand to her lips, brushing a light kiss to his palm. "No one's ever made me feel like you do. Not just my Slayer half, or my girl half, but every part of me."

The berks in her life had done a number on her. The Great Poof, her wanker of a father, that git Spike should've eaten because he thought this Slayer was some one night stand... Luckily, she'd been spared Private Rice Cake and Giles' abandonments this time 'round the carousel (though Finn still had betrayed her and gotten her trapped like a rat in The Initiative). Less abandonments and betrayals after disappointing relationships didn't mean girl was without her wounds. Love and war...

"You deserve to be worshipped, Summers." Spike grinned. "After all, you're a hell of a woman," he said, echoing his vows, echoing a time when she felt so empty and alone because of her sister and friends' becomin' turncoats that she couldn't see how much of a damn superhero she was.

Buffy started kissing him again, desperately. She pressed her chest against his and he could feel her heartbeat. Grabbing his shoulders, she leaned back against the bed and brought Spike with her so he laid on top of her, never breaking their kisses.

Finally, Spike moved away from her lips, kissing her jaw, then her neck, then her collarbone. Then he lifted himself, face hovering over hers as the rest of their bodies lined up. Buffy reached down, lifted her thigh-length silk gown. Spike slid his sweats down. She wrapped her legs around his waist, drawing him closer. Their foreheads bumped together and the pair of them held themselves that way, Buffy's breaths warming his lips as her fingertips clung to his shoulders. When Spike entered her split she gasped, clinging to him. They moved to the same rhythm, slow, steady, like a drum beat taking its sweet time. The fire built up inside of them gradually, deep and passionate and intimate.

Spike had no idea how long they spent this way, just absorbing themselves in each other. The bond was so powerful he didn't care to keep track of the time. But, once they'd brought each other to the brink and then past it, whispering each other's names against their lips, the vampire and the Slayer fell asleep curled in each other's arms, and they did not stir again until morning.

XXXXX

The next morning Buffy headed down to the kitchen as she let Spike continue to sleep upstairs. She clipped her hair up, not wanting to bother with a million hair products. Saturdays were pretty much made for laziness. When she walked into the kitchen, Dawn was pouring herself a bowl of Sugar-Os. Her little sister didn't look up, and Buffy was pretty sure she hadn't even noticed she was here.

"How about we go out for breakfast?" Buffy offered. "I'm buying."

Dawn stopped pouring, abandoning the cereal box on the counter. "Well duh. What, we're gonna pay them with quarters from my piggy bank?"

Buffy smiled. She would've had a snarky comeback normally, but it was difficult enough to get Dawn talking. Instead, she started for the front door of the house, Dawn at her heels.

"I'm so not going if you're driving," Dawn said as they stepped out into the sun.

Buffy closed the front door behind them, eyes lingering on her mother's car parked on the curb. "No worries there. We can walk. Sunnydale's not that big."

"What about Spike?" Dawn asked.

"Sleeping." Buffy started walking and Dawn kept at her side. The Slayer linked her arm with her sister's as they continued strolling down the sidewalk. "Said he might try to find some sort of demon nest tonight. Argyle? Agora? Apparently their eggs sell for a lot of money or something."

"Well that seems dangerous."

"When has he been one for the staying away from danger?"

Dawn laughed, just barely. "True. He is married to a slayer and stuff. But... Maybe he should have back-up? Just in case."

"Of course he will." Buffy glanced at Dawnie out of the side of her eyes. Spike meant so much to Dawn. They were a family now, all of them. "Nothing's going to happen to him. I'm not gonna let it."

Dawn watched her baby blue sneakers as her feet rose and fell on the concrete. "Has Tara said anything? About..."

The Glory daydream craziness. Buffy shrugged, her arm looped in Dawn's pulling her sister a little closer. "Is it still happening?"

"Sometimes."

"Tara and Willow and Giles couldn't find anything on it. Maybe..." Buffy sighed, deciding to fix her attention on the path in front of them. "Maybe, once we take Glory down, it'll get better."

"Maybe." Dawn rested her head against Buffy's shoulder.

"You know I'm always here for you, right?" Buffy stopped dead in her tracks, stopping Dawn with her. "Not just the Slayer stuff. Like, anything you need me for. I'll always take care of you, and we'll always have each other."

Dawn stood up straight, looking at her sister. "I know."

Buffy half-smiled, tucking some hair behind Dawn's ear. Dawn threw her arms around Buffy, squeezing tight.

"I love you," Dawn whispered.

"Love you," Buffy whispered back, stroking Dawn's hair. When they'd been hugging for a while, Buffy suddenly pulled back. "You know what solves everything?"

"Chocolate?"

"Chocolate."

Buffy linked her arm with Dawn's again and they continued walking. "I'm thinking endless pancakes with chocolate chips."

"And chocolate milk?"

"Ooh. Yes."

"So, um, now that we've done the whole sisterly bonding thing, um..." Dawn chewed on her lip. "Um... How much are you gonna yell if I say I got a D on my math quiz?"

"Dawnie!"

"Uh, psych! It was a C?"

"That's it. We're getting Anya to tutor you."

"Anya? I figured you'd sic Willow on me."

"Anya takes nothing more seriously than numbers. Except for, like, other girls hitting on Xander."

Buffy smiled. It was almost like things were normal. Relatively normal. As normal as a vampire slayer talking to her former-energy-key-made-living-by-monks little sister ever got. Normal-ish.

XXXXX

"Twenty dollars says Mrs. Sunnydale stakes the Brit," Faith said.

"I'll take that bet," Dawn said. "Spike's _totally_ done more annoying stuff than this."

Spike rolled his eyes, shifting the battle axe in his hands. It was dark in Sunnydale, and late. Buffy and Willow were studying for some test or another over at the gallery as Tara played shop girl; Rupert and Harris were fixing something or other at The Magic Box. Dawn (carrying a crossbow), Faith (with the Slayer Scythe), and Anya (with a sword) all walked in front of him. He remembered a ghora's nest bein' somewhere in these caves from when Dawn'd tried to resurrect her mum the first time around. If they could snatch all four eggs, intact, it'd be enough to pay for half a year's worth of bills at the house. Or, since Buffy's Slayer salary and the gallery took care of that, it could get split between the Summers women's college funds.

"Slayers do enjoy the stabbing with wooden objects," Anya mused, peeking around every tree they passed on their way into the caves.

"Goldilocks ain't gonna stake me over this," Spike said. "Just, uh, no one tell her we took Dawn into a dangerous demon cave and all will be well, right?"

"Yeah, totally. She'd buy that Anya and Dawn just played Battleship all night," Faith said, smirking. She seemed to sense little bads, 'cause she moved with purpose toward one cave entrance. Spike just hoped he'd gotten them in the right area. The messenger bag on the Dark Slayer's shoulder flopped against her hip. They were gonna use that and the backpack on Dawn's shoulders to store the eggs.

Dawn had been mopin' about, or muttering to herself, since Joyce's death. Understandable, of course, especially since she'd been the one to find her. But Spike had to help. He couldn't just sit by and let the Bit sink into herself. Took too much after Big Sis sometimes. Buffy'd taken the girl out for pancakes that morning; Spike decided to take her out on patrol that night. She'd been in much better spirits today—joking, even.

"So what's the plan, Blondie Bear?" Faith asked. They all stopped on the edge of the cave.

"Anya goes in and distracts the thing. Slayer goes in and stabs it from behind."

"And Dawn...?" The littlest Summers stuck her hand on her hip.

"Stays by Big Bad's side and aims her crossbow at the ghora's head from a safe yet deadly distance."

"Lame."

"Yeah, yeah," Spike muttered. He sniffed, could smell the demon from here. Definitely the right spot. "Sticks and stones, pet. You two ready?"

"How do I distract it?" Anya demanded.

"Hell, I dunno. Shout Magic Box inventory at it. It ain't a smart demon; it'll follow the noise."

Faith shrugged and led the way into the cave. Lady Vengeance quickly caught up and then passed her. She charged her way into the cave, shouting about the Russian revolution. Spike and Dawn shuffled in after them. Spike stuck his arm out once the ghora was within site, keeping Dawn right there. Niblet aimed her crossbow, shutting one eye as she figured out where she wanted to shoot.

"Spike?"

"Yeah, Snack Size?"

"I'm glad we have you."

Spike divided his attention between the scene playing out and the girl at his side. The ghora was sauntering after Anya on the opposite side of the cave as she continued to shout and wave her arms, brandishing her sword about. Faith, meanwhile, came at it from behind, slow and cat-like.

"And... Spike, I'm glad you taught me how to defend myself. I want to help."

Faith took one good swing of the Scythe, lopping off the ghora's tail. The ghora swung about, knocking Faith into the cave wall. She didn't seem like she'd be getting up. Anya held the sword out in front of her, backing against the cave wall. Spike gripped the axe in his hand, ready to help, but before he could even move Dawn loosened an arrow, which found its home in the demon's eye. The demon shrieked before falling over dead. Anya sprinted to the Slayer, helping her to her feet. Spike and Dawn approached them.

"I've been wondering why I'm here," Dawn whispered to Spike, not making eye contact with him. "Especially with those weirdly vivid Glory daydream things. And... If I'm gonna be a real person, I might as well fight the bad guys with you all, as much as I can. As much as Buffy lets me."

"Makes a lotta sense to me," Spike whispered back. "C'mon. Let's get those costly eggs and run for the hills, shall we?"

XXXXX

Buffy and Willow were studying for a history final for so long that Buffy forgot what time period they were even supposed to be looking at. She kept nodding off as Wills spoke, flashing back to other study sessions with her over the years. It didn't matter—either she was going to stay up all night studying and fail 'cause she fell asleep during the test, or she was going to pass out now and not be able to tell the difference between Rasputin and Napoleon. Tara was quietly taking care of the gallery's cash register.

"Buffy?"

"Totally awake," Buffy murmured, stirring herself.

"I can totally tell that," Wills said with her disappointed half-smile. "What with the drool and all."

Buffy huffed, slamming her textbook shut. "What's the point? It's no use. Between slayage and playing mother and the gallery and just everything. There's not enough Buffy to go around."

"Aww, sure there is," Willow insisted. "Do we need a mocha run? Somewhere's gotta be open, right?"

"I should just drop out, Will. I'm going to fail everything anyway. And I don't even know what I want to get out of college."

"Hey." Willow reached out and squeezed Buffy's hand. Uh-oh. Full on resolve face. "It's your choice and all, but we can help more, if you want to do the college thing. Like, I can help Tara with the gallery. And I'm sure Faith and Spike would be all over taking more patrols. And..."

Buffy shook out her long hair. "I'm half convinced I'm only in college because Mom expected me to."

"Well, what are you interested in?" Willow pulled back her hand, tilting her head and staring at Buffy as she waited for the answer.

"There's the whole birthright baddie killing. And running Mom's gallery..."

"Well there you go!"

Buffy blinked. She missed something.

"You can do what Tara is. Major in Art History. And... and maybe business? They could help give you some pointers on how to keep the business, ya know, business-ing."

Buffy chewed on the eraser of her pencil. "That sounds pretty reasonable, actually."

"I could show you my schedule for next semester," Tara offered. "We could take most of our classes together."

"Maybe." Buffy realized she was holding her pencil so hard it had started to snap in half and splinter. "Save sister, kill hell god, then worry about declaring my major." They had a week until Giles' Glory-beatin' window opened up.

"I..." Willow's nose wrinkled up. "Well, yeah, okay. That makes sense."

"Also, there's the matter of tomorrow's test," Buffy said.

"So: Mocha run or flash cards first?"


	28. Chapter 28

_Dedicated to Taste Like Special and RAGAnne._

 _RAGAnne: I definitely wanted to play with the 'Dawn is happy when Dawn is included' thing (which I feel like comes out in season five but even more so in six and seven). So I think Buffy spending alone time with her first thing in the morning and Spike helping her feel 'useful' and badass by going on a demon butt-kicking mission taps into that for her. At least that was my rationale. :)_

 _And here we go..._

Chapter 28

Buffy handed the lady her change and smiled. The lady walked off toward the front door of The Magic Box with her bag. Xander was rummaging through a weapons chest over by the table as Giles and Anya did something business-y down in the basement. Dawn was at school with the Dagon Sphere secure in her backpack to keep Glory away. Xander yanked one of those silver spikey balls on a stick and chain from the weapons chest, presenting it to Buffy.

"Whaddya think, Buffster? Mace? Good enough to kick some psycho god butt?"

Buffy shrugged, closing the register. "The more weapons the better, right?"

Xander pointed at her. "Right you are, Slay-gal!" He stuck the mace on the table and went digging around in the chest some more. "So what's the plan for tonight? Ahn and I can't exactly play Clue with Dawnie while the rest of you guys hunt down the little scabby dudes and Glory."

Buffy pressed her fingers to her eyes. "Yeah, I know." It was the first of May, which meant Big Bad season. Willow had helped Buffy make it through finals without running out of the classrooms crying. They were officially in overtime. "Um, maybe Giles..."

Xander stood again, holding a wooden baseball bat with both hands. "Somehow I don't think he's gonna go for the bench warming, either."

"Well, it's not like we can take Dawnie with us for a field trip and deliver The Key right to Glory." Buffy folded her arms across her chest. Her brain was doing that fogging thing where her mind started to wander to things like the beach and that time she and Spike spent in that hotel and mochas with Wills and Tara and going for pancakes with Dawn... All normal girl things that made the Slayer stress levels go down.

"We could put her on a roundtrip plane to Hong Kong," Xand said with a huge grin. "I'm sure the monks whipped up a passport for her, right?"

Buffy laughed. "Somehow I don't—"

The front door of The Magic Box opened and Willow came speeding in, muttering to herself. Angry muttering. Bad, angry muttering.

"Well that's not a happy Willow," Xander said. He tossed the baseball bat on the table next to the mace. "What's wrong?"

"Tara and I had a fight!" Wills shouted, throwing her hands up in the air.

"A fight?" Buffy and Xander said together. They shared a look.

"Yeah. About the Dagon Sphere." Willow pouted her lips, a wrinkle forming between her eyebrows. "I wanted to use Beltane to channel the sun's energy and enhance the sphere's power. 'Cause it's shiny and, I dunno, it stands to reason the sun might help."

"Sounds complicated," Buffy muttered. More knots twisted in her tummy as she remembered Spike's warning about Wills getting too caught up with the magics.

"Where does the fighting between our two favorite witches come in?" Xander stuck his hands in his pockets.

"Tara is afraid 'cause there's this teensy tiny chance the spell might go kabloo-y."

"And when you say kabloo-y..." Xander prodded.

"Might destroy the Dagon Sphere..." Willow stared down at her shoes, picking at the hem of her fuzzy pink sweater. "Or the building. Or hurt us." Willow raised her chin, resolve face in full form. "But I won't get it wrong. Not with Tara. We can do it. I know we can."

"Will, maybe we should just take a breath, alright?" Buffy walked around the counter, standing next to Xander. "I mean, the Dagon Sphere is doing its job. It's keeping Dawn off of Glory's radar. Maybe there's some other spell. Some other witchy goodness you can lay on her that'll help, huh?"

Willow grimaced. Buffy combed her fingers through her own hair, feeling really awkward. No one ever really brought up the magic warning to her, except for Tara and maybe Spike or Giles once or twice.

"At any rate, Wills, it's not worth the fight," Xander said. "You love Tara, and she loves you. Isn't that the only thing that matters?"

"Well, I mean..." Willow rolled her eyes. "I guess I was a little harsh."

"Hey, I bet she's at my mom's gallery," Buffy said. She wrapped her arms around herself. To her, it'd always be her mom's gallery. But the reminder of her mother's absence still hurt, every time.

Xander came closer to Buffy, then kiss her on the temple. "Why don't we go visit?"

"Hey!" Buffy moved toward Willow, linking arms with her. The pair of them shuffled toward the front door of The Magic Box with Xander walking on the other side of Buffy. "Xand and I can watch the gallery while you guys talk things out, hmm? Maybe go for a walk, get some ice cream, don't think about spells for twenty minutes and see what happens?"

"Ahn! Giles!" Xander called to the basement. "We're heading out!"

XXXXX

"I'm just saying," Buffy continued, "it'd be an easy way to distract and/or confused a demon. Even Glory." She and Willow glanced at each other. "I mean, it's gotta stun a hell god for a hot minute if someone comes at her doing the—"

"Hey!" Xander shouted as the three of them walked down the street. "The Snoopy dance is for special occasions only!"

Willow smirked. "Like Halloween?"

"Exactly! Or double Xander type scenarios," he said. "I can't just whip it out all willy nilly."

"Well, no, we would _not_ want that," Buffy agreed before she and Willow giggled uncontrollably.

It was a perfect, sunny day downtown. A few people walked around in front of the shops. Mostly it was middle-of-the-day quiet.

And then they came up on Joyce's gallery.

And they heard the shouting.

Buffy recognized that voice.

Willow and Buffy broke apart from each other, Xander tightening his hands into fists next to them. The front of the gallery was wrecked, like Godzilla had taken a big ol' chomp out of it. Tara had up one of those blue magic force field thingys around herself. And, flinging statues and huge pieces of wood at Tara was...

Glory.

Buffy ran at full speed into the gallery, Xander not too far behind her.

"C'mon, precious!" Glory said to Tara, completely unaware that the Scoobies were behind her. "I just wanna know where my shiny key is, that's all!"

Buffy punched Glory twice in the back of the head. Xander kept on barreling toward Tara. Glory spun around, grabbing Buffy by the throat and lifting her a foot off the ground.

"Okay, you are in some serious need of etiquette lessons, sugar." Glory smiled. "What, do they raise slayers in barns?"

Buffy dug her fingernails into Glory's hand around her neck. She was making a dent in the hell bitch's skin. They could hurt her now. But not here. They needed better weapons, more people, to make sure Tara was alright. Buffy landed a solid kick of her boot to Glory's gut, propelling herself out of Glory's grasp as Glory went careening to the back of the gallery. Buffy flipped herself off the floor as Glory struggled her way out of a busted painting. Buffy felt something grab her arm and spun to hit it by pure adrenaline-fueled instinct, until she realized it was Tara. Tara's nose was bleeding, but she had her blue barrier up over herself and Xander and now Buffy. Willow stood on the sidewalk in front of the store. As Glory got to her feet, Willow's eyes went black.

"Excudo!" Willow shouted, holding her hand out toward Glory.

Tara pulled Buffy and Xander down into a crouch so that they narrowly avoided getting hit by a blast of green energy, which instead hit Glory and sent her to the floor again. It wasn't going to do much for long; she was already struggling to her feet again. Tara, Buffy, and Xander rose. Willow had been knocked over. Tara dropped her barrier and ran to Willow's side, helping her up. Xander put a hand on Buffy's shoulder, snapping her out of it. They caught up with Wills and Tara, all four of them sprinting away from the store. Glory was standing behind them in a flash. Tara and Willow held hands, their free hands flat in Glory's direction. Willow's nose was bleeding really bad.

"Kali, Hera, Kronos, Thonic," the witches chanted. "Air like nectar, thick as onyx. Cassiel by your second star, hold our victim as in tar."

That stopped Glory in her tracks, and they ran.

XXXXX

The librarian, the bricklayer, Lady Vengeance, and the Wicca set were all at Rupert's place, hiding out where Glory (hopefully) couldn't find 'em for an hour or two. Spike and the two slayers had decided that it was prolly a good idea to get Dawn out of school early. Buffy'd told the principal to call the Bit in because their aunt Faith was in the hospital. Spike and the Dark Slayer met them in the DeSoto outside.

Now Spike was driving 'em back to Giles' flat. This lot was safe so long as they had the Dagon Sphere, carefully tucked in Dawn's backpack, to keep them under Her Psychotic One's radar. He parked under a shady tree. Enough shade that he could hide under his duster and be okay. He killed the ignition. The slayers were the first out of the car, followed by Dawn and Spike. When they turned the corner into the courtyard, the entire place was covered in rubble. And, where Giles' flat was, the entire wall that separated it from the outside had been blasted down to nothing.

"Shit," Faith muttered.

"Giles!" Buffy called.

"Xander? Anya?" Dawn shouted after her. "Tara?" She moved toward Buffy and Faith. "Willow?" Buffy held out her arm, stopping the Bit in place.

"Stay here with Faith," Buffy said. "Keep your backpack close."

"But what if—"

"You can wait five seconds for me to tell you what's up." Buffy looked to the other slayer, who came to Pint Size's side without another word. Dawn pouted and crossed her arms over her chest, but she stayed put.

Spike followed Buffy into what was left of Rupert's flat. Aside from the busted wall, the place didn't look too bad. All the musty old books and Scotch still in place, maybe the couch was askew or somethin'. Buffy kept scanning the place, her heart loud and racing in Spike's ears.

"Wills! Xand! Tara? Anya?" she called out. She sprinted for the staircase. Then the phone in the kitchen started to ring. "Spike, I'm going to check upstairs. Can you—"

Spike nodded and the Slayer ran off to the second floor. He wandered to the kitchen, picking the phone up. "'lo?"

"A voice! A British voice! Xander, someone finally picked up!"

"Demon Gal?"

"Yes, hello. Spike?"

"Yeah, it's me. Are you all a'right, love?"

Buffy flew down the steps and then into the kitchen, staring wide-eyed at Spike.

"We're all alive, yes," Anya said. "And all of our limbs are intact. Tara is still quite shaken from the incident at Joyce's gallery, though."

"Are they okay?" Buffy whispered.

Spike nodded.

"Faith! You and Dawn can come in here!" Buffy grabbed the phone from Spike, who tightened his lips and glowered at her. The Dark Slayer and the littlest Summers came edgin' into the Watcher's flat. "Hi, Giles?" Buffy said into the phone.

Dawn's eyes were shining. She opened her mouth to say something, but Spike put a finger to his pursed lips. _They're okay_ he mouthed. Dawn smiled, grateful for the news. The other Slayer busied herself by checking out the rubble knocked into the living room.

"You're all alright? Where are you?" Buffy nodded, chewing her lower lip, her eyebrows lowered as she concentrated on what Demon Girl was saying. "We'll be there in ten minutes, alright? Just... see if Wills and Tara can do some kind of 'cloak the apartment from Big Bads' ritual,' alright?" She hung up the phone. "C'mon. They're at Xander and Anya's place. The quicker we get there, the less time they don't have the Dagon Sphere's protection."


	29. Chapter 29

_So guess who forgot it was Thursday until 10 minutes ago?_

 _Dedicated to RAGAnne, RedStalkingDeath, and Taste Like Special._

 _Just a reminder that chapter 32 is the last of this story. There'll be one more story in the trilogy, but I don't know when I'll start posting that as I haven't started writing it yet. It'll be a few months, at least. Mostly it's still in the "working out all these ideas" phase._

Chapter 29

Faith handed Spike a beer, taking a sip of one of her own. All the Scoobies were crammed into Harris' apartment. Spike was having flashbacks to how suffocating the house on Revello Drive got with the potential girls crawling about. Rupert and Tara emerged from the kitchen with teacups. They sat down on the couch, but they were the only ones sitting. The rest were pacing about. Red was muttering to herself as she speed-read through another magics book. Buffy gripped her Slayer Scythe, concentrating on the ground as she moved in circles. She was preparing herself for battle; he knew the look.

"I'm not sure why we're ruling out the running," Anya finally said, breaking the tense silence. "Running from a hell god is just smart."

Harris raised his hand. "As the guy who got stabbed with a pool cue, kinda inclined to agree with my girlfriend there."

Spike shook his head, taking another swig of bad American beer. He was going to need a whole six pack to himself to get his nerves under control—that, or start looking for a demon or somethin' he could hit to get rid of the anxious energy. "Runnin' didn't work last time. She still found us. And she slaughtered a couple o' dozen men to get to us, too. She still got Dawn that way." They'd warned the Wanker's Council about those renaissance rejects, so Spike hoped that they at least didn't have to worry about a cock-up with them.

"We have the Dagon Sphere," Tara said. She took a sip of tea when everyone turned to her. "I mean, um, shouldn't that be enough? She can't find us or... or Dawnie... so long as we have that?"

"Yes, well," Giles said, adjusting his glasses. "That may be true, unless its power weakens closer to the portal's window, or Dawn's..." He cleared his throat. "Or if Dawn's key energy becomes stronger. Unfortunately, there's just no way to know if it's fool-proof. And the risk..."

Tara smiled, crooked. "Right. Wishful thinking."

"If wishes were pennies..." Faith muttered. She abandoned her finished beer on the coffee table, then flexed her fingers.

"Then I could own Buckingham Palace," Lady Vengeance muttered, playing with some gold charm hanging 'round her neck. She earned a few smiles around the room.

"What about the Watcher's Council?" Giles suggested, setting aside his tea. "I could see if Quentin might have some resource we haven't come across yet, perhaps?"

Faith ran her hands through her hair, then shook her head. "Nah. If Slayers can't get the job done, there's nothin' the tweed types can do to help." She took a cigarette from the pack of smokes in her pocket, then headed out onto Harris' balcony, shutting the door behind her.

Spike turned his attention to Buffy. She hadn't said a word. She was creating a battle plan in her head as she paced a scowled down at the carpet. Running different strategies through her thoughts. Finding her solution. Being resourceful. She would win, like she always did. And Spike would be there to do whatever she asked.

"Willow, are you finding anything useful for our current situation in there," Anya demanded, "or are you just studying for your next term paper?"

Red glared up at Anya from her book. "You don't study for a term paper. You study for a test, or you write a paper," she said, an edge in her voice. She'd been acting kinda wonky since they'd arrived at Harris' place. Spike was not going to be the one to mention it.

"Oh, yes, _that_ was the important piece of information to focus on from my question!" Anya shouted back.

"Guys!" Xander said.

"Sweetie, what's wrong?" Tara stood, setting her cup on the coffee table.

"All these spells..." Willow shook her head, slamming the book shut. "I can't do them."

"Are they in, like, Sumerian or something?" Dawn whispered. Her one arm hung at her side, the opposite hand holding on to her elbow. She wasn't quite making eye contact with anybody.

"No. I... I felt myself go dark before. At the gallery. And what if I try another spell and that whole Powers That Be warning happens?"

Buffy finally looked up from the floor, eyes locking with Spike. He just wanted to hold her tight and let her rest for an hour and not have to worry about any of this. But he knew his girl. The only way she could take a breath was taking the hell bitch down. She needed to protect Dawn and her friends, and then she could think about something else for a while, until the next thing came at her, at least.

"Earth Mother can help," Spike said. He put his beer bottle on the floor. "She's been helpin', yeah?"

"Right," Rupes agreed, nodding. "She is a grounding force for you, and can strengthen your magic."

"We can try a locator spell," Tara offered. "Teensy tiny locator spell. Even baby witches can do one without it getting crazy."

"She's a god," Wills muttered. "She's not exactly in the mystical phone book."

"Do you have something of hers?" Anya asked. "A strand of hair, a piece of jewelry, something? It'll enhance the spell."

Willow and Tara involuntarily glanced at Dawn then immediately looked away again, bowing their heads.

"What?" Dawn demanded, throwing her shoulders back.

"Nothing," Tara muttered.

Buffy's eyebrows lowered as she stared Red down. "She's The Key. She's connected to Glory. Ties in to her dimension."

"It could work," Anya said.

"Or it could alert Glory to Dawn's presence," Giles argued. "The potential risk..."

"I'll do it," Dawn said. She stuck out her chin, brave and defiant like. Joyce'd been right. Dawn did spend a lot of time with Spike. He smirked.

"No, Dawnie," Buffy said. "If you get hurt—"

"So what?" Dawn said. "We stay in Xander's apartment for the next month with the blinds closed and hope she doesn't find us? What if she starts hurting people in Sunnydale? I'm not going to let her hurt people because of me. Not if I can help it." Spike could hear it in her tone of voice, see it in her eyes—she was thinking of Tara's mind getting taken, of her sister jumping from the tower. She was going to keep them safe. Picked up a lot from Big Sis, this one. "So what do you guys need? Blood?"

Tara shook her head. "Just holding hands should work."

Willow sighed. "Xander, you don't happen to have an extensive spice rack, do you?"

"All out of eye of newt, sorry," Harris said. His face grayed as he looked at Dawn.

"I can see what we've got to work with," Tara whispered, gliding off toward the kitchen.

"I may have a couple of things in the bedroom, Xander," Anya offered. "Some emergency talismans or something."

Xander nodded, and the pair of them headed off to the bedroom. Spike prayed the pair of 'em wouldn't do anything that would be uncomfortable to overhear. But his focus redirected immediately when he saw how pale Buffy's face was. Her heartbeat was slow, each thump so hard it must've been painful. She was staring at the Lil Bit like at any minute she could just vanish before her eyes, never to be seen again. Spike stalked over to Buffy, wrapping his Slayer up in his arms and holding on tight. Buffy dropped the Scythe to the floor, clinging to Spike, her face pressed against his t-shirt.

"It'll be alright, love," he whispered to her. "Nothin' we can't handle."

Buffy nodded against him.

"Once they pin her down, I'll take Harris and Rupert and we'll scope the place out, see how many minions she's got, what kind of artillery. Report back to you and take her down, hmm?" Spike kissed the top of her head, surrounded by the scent of sunshine and coconut.

Buffy pulled away, looking up at him. Her green eyes were shining, vulnerable. It was the girl half, the sister half, the woman who'd just lost her mum. She wouldn't show it to the others. In another minute she'd have on the Slayer battle mask. But she didn't need to with him. He could comfort her like this. Spike leaned down and kissed her, tender, on the lips. Buffy grabbed his shoulders, pulled him closer.

XXXXX

Buffy picked up two stakes and brought them over to Xander's bed. Her jacket was there and Buffy flipped it open, exposing the hidden pocket Tara had sewn in for her the week before. Faith was sitting in a chair across the room, polishing her knife obsessively. She was being abnormally quiet. Buffy was expecting her to make with the laugh in the face of danger snarkiness.

Willow and Tara had held hands with each other and Dawn and did some chanting over a map. Dawn's eyes glowed green, and then a spot on the map glowed green like a little supernatural pinhead. Spike had gone with Xand and Giles to check it out, see if Glory really was there so they could all go and attack, but they'd had to wait 'til sundown, for Spike's sake. They'd been gone at least an hour. Buffy was seriously regretting not wearing a watch. Wills and Tara were in the kitchen, trying to find herbs that Xander had that weren't hot sauce or ketchup so they could do witchy voodoo and make the Dagon Sphere more powerful, just to make sure Dawnie got as much protection mileage out of the thing as she could. Anya and Dawn, meanwhile, were flipping through Glory notes one last bajillionth time.

"Looks bad, huh, B?" Faith said, startling Buffy with the interruption of silence.

"Uh, yeah." Buffy slipped her jacket on. She moved her arms a little, twisted left and then right. She could feel the stakes against her ribcage on the left, but it was barely anything and nearly undetectable from the outside looking in. It'd do.

"We'll just have to figure it out, huh? Us hot chicks with superpowers." Faith smirked. She stood from her seat, her newly shined knife all sparkly. Buffy smiled right back. "We've faced worse than this."

Buffy lifted an eyebrow. "Worse than a hell god? Are you optimistic or just slow?"

"Pft," Faith said, waving her hand. "Just one hell god. We'll be five-by-five in time for some Bronze celebratin', just you watch."

"Dawn!" someone in the living room screamed.

Buffy and Faith's expressions dropped. Buffy only hesitated long enough to grab the Scythe from the bed, then the Slayer bolted out of the room. Anya, Willow, and Tara were all standing, staring at the same spot.

"What the hell?" Faith demanded. "You guys gave us a damn heart attack!"

Buffy felt bile swell up in her throat. "Where's Dawn?" All three of them turned to the slayers, each one's face paler and more serious than the next. Buffy gripped tighter to the Scythe in her hand, so tight she felt it starting to leave an imprint. "Where. Is. Dawn," Buffy said through gritted teeth.

"She just vanished!" Willow said, voice high pitched. "Poof."

"She just went _poof_?"

"What're you witches smokin' in here?" Faith said.

"She didn't just go poof," Anya corrected. "She got up to go to the bathroom. And then she vanished."

"Yes," Wills said, crossing her arms over her chest and sticking her chin out. "Vanished. So much more articulate than poof. My apologies."

Tara laid a hand on Willow's shoulder.

"She..." Anya scoffed, shook her head, and turned her attention directly to Buffy. "It was a teleportation spell. Like we used on Glory in The Bronze."

"But how is that possible?" Tara whispered. "She'd have to call someone to her, instead of sending it away."

"It's still possible," Anya said. "Just harder. And technically, since Dawn and Glory have a connection..."

"But the Dagon Sphere?" Tara added.

"Wasn't ever fool-proof," Faith muttered. "Coulda been a million things, right? Closer to the hell portal time, using the locator spell."

Buffy turned to Faith as Willow started talking. The others were concerned, scared. They didn't know where Dawn was, wanted to help fix this. But Faith... Buffy knew that expression, that faraway battle-ready face. She'd worn it enough times herself to know it. Faith wasn't sure they'd win, though she'd try to put on the brave act and go running into battle. Buffy knew the only option, and there was no time to debate it.

"We have to go find her," Buffy said. "When they come back, we're going to find my sister and we're going to bring her home safe."


	30. Chapter 30

_For RAGANne and Rinso._

 _This chapter has an opening that deviates a little bit from the rest of this fic so far. (You'll see what I mean when you read it.) It's important for the last story of the trilogy, so hopefully it's not gonna drive you completely nuts._

 _The next couple of chapters will be some wrap-up and some set-up for the final story of the trilogy. (All we have left at this point is Chapter 31 on Tuesday and Chapter 32 on Thursday.) Hope you guys are en joying this! :)_

 _Now, on to the main attraction..._

Chapter 30

Dawn's hands had been tied in front of her. Now she was sitting on a chair in the middle of a pretty empty room. She was here alone. Two of the scabby dudes had just left through the door. A bunch of them were out there. The only other option for escape was the window, and they'd definitely climbed a lot of stairs. Even Spike or Buffy would've gotten hurt jumping out from this height, she guessed. Her arms were all bruised and scratched up, and one of the minions had clocked her so hard with a flailing hand to the eye that her vision had blurred for about five minutes. There weren't any weapons around for Dawn to use, nothing she could even repurpose like a brick or a bottle or something.

The door to the room opened and Glory came walking in, one of the scabby dudes who'd tied Dawn up at her heels. "Jinxy, _why_ is my key all banged up?" Glory demanded, curling her nose at Dawn.

"Most Merciless and Sparkly One." Jinx managed to both bow and cower at the same time. "She... did not... come easily."

Dawn grinned when she caught sight of the lump on the minion's head.

"You literally did a spell to bring her here." Glory stuck her hand on her waist. She was wearing some long velvety robe. "How much easier can I make it?"

"Yes, well, she rendered three of us on conscious before—"

Glory held up her hand. "Enough excuses."

"Probably not a great idea to kidnap the girl with a Slayer sister and vamp brother-in-law," Dawn said, glaring at Glory. Dawn would have to give Spike a big hug later for all the training that year. They were three minions less bothered because of it. Dawn would take down more of them if she got the chance, clear the way as much as possible for when the Scoobies showed. Dawn tested the rope around her hands; so tight it was cutting off her circulation.

Glory smiled, walking over to Dawn and caressing her cheek. Dawn pulled herself away from Glory's touch. "Girlfriend, you might want to play nice. Neither one of us is gonna be playin' real girl for much longer."

"They'll come for me."

"Bonus! Then you can watch us kill 'em all before we bleed you dry." Glory combed her fingers through Dawn's hair, the way Buffy did sometimes. With Buffy, it was sweet. From Glory, it was vaguely creepy. "I've got places to be, a Lord of the Dance ex-boyfriend's soft-shoeing ass to kick," Glory babbled on. "And there's this teensy tiny window for me to get to my dimension and do that."

Dawn hardened her jaw. She was not afraid. They'd come for her. All they needed to do was figure out where she was and she'd have them all here, helping her smack Glory and her scabby midgets around.

The Scoobies were so going to win.

XXXXX

Spike had walked up to the flat while Harris and Rupert found a parking spot. He wanted to tell the ladies, as soon as possible, that Glory's old mansion, the one the map had pointed to, had cleared out between the spellwork and the search. But he had an inclination of where she might be, if the old timeline was still of any use at all. Pretty soon Spike's future knowledge would be null and void for all of them having changed so much; he just hoped they still had a little future fuel to run on. All it took was asking Harris in the car ride back here about construction sites in town, accidents, things that weren't regulation. The bricklayer had a couple in mind.

Of course, hopeful wasn't exactly the mood when he walked into Harris' living room. Buffy, Faith, Anya, Tara, and Willow all scowled in his general direction. It took him a minute to realize why: Dawn wasn't among them.

They'd spent the ten minutes since the men had returned loading themselves up with weapons as Red caught them up and Harris continued to be an utter dolt.

"How in the hellmouth did they transmogrify the Dawnster? They shouldn't have even known where she was, not with the Dagon Sphere."

"What does it matter, Xander?" Giles grumbled, stuffing a duffle bag with books. Spike was waitin' for him to add in a magic gourd. "The point is that Dawn is gone and your knowledge of the town's construction sites and Spike's future knowledge and preternatural sense of smell are the only way to find her." Had to admire Rupert's ever-withstanding stiff an' upper, Spike supposed.

"Alright, alright," Xander said, holding his hands up. "I get it. It's just all mystical and confusing, alright?"

"Besides, it's not transmogrification," Anya said, stuffing a couple of kitchen knives in the pockets of her long sweater.

"What?"

"No, she's right," Tara agreed. She was holding the Dagon Sphere in one palm and running the opposite hand over it like she was petting a little bunny. "It's teleportation."

"You guys ready?" Buffy said, slinging a bag of weapons onto her shoulder. "We're losing time every minute we waste here."

Spike looked to the others just in time to see Red's head snap up. Her eyes widened with an idea, and then she glared at a blank bit of wall. "Transmogrification!"

"Yes, yes, thank you Willow," Xander grumbled, starting for the door. "Me stupid. No knowing of the big magic words."

"No!" Willow shouted. "Transmogrification!" She spun to her girlfriend. "The Dagon Sphere. The Sumerian transmogrification spell!"

Tara's mouth hung open. Clearly the witch knew what she was talking about.

"We have to go anywhere special to grab this spell?" Faith asked, eyebrows lowered.

"I should have a copy of it in this bag," Giles said. "We can look for it in the car. Willow and Tara, you can come with me. Xander, you can transport yourself and Anya with the majority of our arsenal. Buffy, Faith, and Spike will lead us on foot."

Buffy nodded. She started for the door, but stopped suddenly at Spike's side. Grabbing him by the collar of his duster, she pulled his face down to hers and kissed him hard on the lips. When she released him, her eyes, intense and full of fire, bore up into his.

"I love you, Spike," Buffy said.

Spike smiled, his throat sore at the thought that in an hour he could lose everything that mattered to him. "Love you," he whispered back.

Buffy gripped her Scythe and charged out of Harris' flat. Spike, holding his broadsword tight, marched on after her.

XXXXX

When Spike had taken them to the construction site, the first thing that Buffy had noticed was all the innocent people walking around, muttering. Apparently they'd gone crazy after Glory sucked their brains. Giles set up in the distance with a book, doing some chanting to knock the innocents out so Glory couldn't hurt them. Meanwhile, the rest of them hid behind a tall piece of fence. A group of scabby minions came out from the bottom of the tower. Shortly after that, Glory came down the stairs of the tower wearing some velvety robe thing.

Buffy turned to Tara and nodded. Tara smiled. Ducking her head, her long brown hair curtained her face. She tucked the Dagon Sphere away in the long sleeve of her blue shirt. She shuffled onto the construction site, blending in among all the victims. Willow followed after Tara had walked for a few feet, Wills' arms tense at her sides. Buffy reached out next to her, holding tight to Spike's hand as they watched. Glory was talking to one of her demons, but lifted her head suddenly as Tara got closer. Faith gripped Buffy by the shoulder, another reassurance.

"Hey, I know you," Glory snapped, looking directly at Tara. "What're you doing here?"

Tara revealed the Dagon Sphere in her palm, lifting her head. Willow sprinted and caught up to her girlfriend. They grabbed hands, Tara holding the Dagon Sphere up. "Kur!" the witches shouted. The Dagon Sphere burst into glowing dust like a way dead vampire. But instead of the dust falling to the dirt under them, Wills and Tara moved their heads toward Glory. Glory, staring at them with an open mouth, breathed in all the Dagon Sphere dust. She stumbled, holding her wild curly hair.

When Glory took a step toward the witches, Buffy, Spike, and Faith took that as their cue. They charged: Buffy with the Scythe, Spike his favorite sword, and Faith the troll hammer. Faith managed to get in the first swing, landing a direct hit to Glory's face and sending her flying away from the tower.

"I got this," Buffy said. "Go get Dawn."

"On it, B," Faith said.

Buffy heard her and Spike start clanking their way up the tower. The innocent humans all around them dropped to the ground as, Buffy guessed, Giles' spell worked. Glory started getting to her feet again. Willow and Tara were sending electric sparks at some of the scabby demons behind Buffy. Xand and Anya were beating up the other minions near the construction site's entrance with a mace and baseball bat. Buffy took a steadying breath as Glory stumbled her way.

"I need me a brain. Tell me, Slayer, you got enough in there to tide me over?" She licked blood from her lip. Glory was weaker than she'd been at The Bronze when she'd hurt Spike and Xander. Buffy used that reminder of the two men she'd almost lost, in addition to the threat to her sister, to harden herself for the fight. "Or is it like Chinese food and I'll just be hungry again in twenty minutes?"

"You're assuming you'll still be alive and kicking in twenty." Buffy smirked. "You know what they say about assuming."

Buffy took a swing of the Scythe at Glory, cutting her arm and making her bleed. Glory's eyes darkened. She backhanded Buffy's face then punched her in the gut. Buffy was lifted in the air, then crashed back against the tower. If she was a regular girl, the blow to the back of her head definitely would've knocked her out at bare minimum. Glory grabbed Buffy by the collar of her jacket and flung her again, away from the tower. Then Glory tried to start up the stairs.

Full Slayer mode was activated. Buffy was on her feet in an instant. Her hand found one of the stakes in her jacket and she flung it at Glory's back. It stuck right in the middle of her spine. Glory turned around.

"Was that supposed to hurt?"

"I'm a sucker for the classics," Buffy said. She edged toward Glory, trying to get as close as possible before Glory noticed. She grinned. "Get it? Sucker? I'm a vampire slayer... God, those hair chemicals must kill brain cells. Or were you always this much of a moron?" Without Glory having realized it, Buffy was only a couple of feet away from her now.

"I am a god," Glory said.

"And I'm a Capricorn on the cusp of Aquarius."

Buffy swung the Scythe again, cutting Glory from one side of her waist to the other. Buffy twirled the Scythe, stabbing Glory in the center with the stake end. Glory grabbed the handle sticking out of her, trying to wrestle it away from Buffy. Buffy tightened her grip and shifted the Scythe and Glory to her right, facing the god away from the tower. Buffy lifted her right leg and pressed her foot onto Glory's torso to peel her off of the Scythe. Once she was freed, Glory shot a few feet in the opposite direction of the tower before she collapsed to the ground. Buffy closed the distance between them. She pressed the blade of the Scythe to Glory's neck.

"Wait!" Glory shouted.

"What? All of a sudden you're a fan of the mercy?"

Glory turned into Ben.

"Please don't," Ben said.

Buffy moved the Scythe's blade, still keeping it close but not pressing it against Ben's neck.

"I promise, I won't let her come out again. Please just don't hurt me."

The tower creaked next to them. Buffy's heart skipped a beat. The tower was collapsing. With Dawn and Spike and Faith on it. Buffy used the steel part of the Scythe's handle to whack Ben in the face. He passed out, but he'd live. She could deal with him later. Buffy started sprinting up to the top of the tower.

XXXXX

Just as Spike and Faith reached the top of the tower, they felt it shift under them. Spike looked over the edge. Buffy was laying crumpled on the ground by the tower and Glory as approaching her. Spike knew that the tower'd fallen the last time, but it'd taken a couple of months—didn't happen 'til after the Slayer's resurrection. Maybe Glory had less victims to work construction this time around.

"Spike!"

Spike tore his attention from Buffy and Glory's fight down below, eyes locking with Dawn's. Someone had tied her to the edge of the platform, just like last time. But no Doc or minions to worry about this time 'round. Faith took a step toward the Niblet, but the tower shifted again. The Dark Slayer turned to Spike.

"Maybe you should try," she said. "I think the troll hammer's weighing me down. One of us shiftin' might not kill us."

"Well that's comforting," Spike muttered as he dropped his sword. He did move toward Dawn, takin' his time, not so much as lifting his feet. He made it all the way to the edge and broke one of her restraints. The tower creaked again. The Bit clutched Spike's shoulder with her freed hand. Spike took a deep breath and then he noticed the blood all over Dawn; the smell of it sickened him. "They didn't..." He glanced at the sky below them. No blue electric crap.

"I took down three minions," Dawn whispered, smirking. "It's four and five that made a mark."

"Atta girl," Spike said, breaking the second restraint.

Then the grate under them fell away and Dawn and Spike were airborne. Spike reached out and grabbed the Bit, hugging her against his chest. He forced his weight to the side, getting himself under her as they fell. The fall might kill him this time with even the slight added weight, but he'd be damned if he let Dawn get hurt, not after all this. They landed on the concrete below, Spike's head smacking on something sharp. For a minute he thought his head might severe, but then he wasn't dust. Spike released Dawn, who rolled away from him, coughing but alright. Spike looked above. Faith was still up top of the swaying tower, and Buffy had just reached the Dark Slayer.

That was when Spike noticed the blue electric snap opening up like a zipper in the sky. Some fresh bit of Dawn's blood had passed through, maybe from one of her scrapes.

Either way, it didn't matter. Spike had failed.

XXXXX

"Oh god." Buffy nearly dropped the Scythe. The portal opened. She'd have to jump. She looked at Faith, whose whole face had dropped. Buffy didn't want to leave her sister, her friends, Spike. But the Slayer's life was always short, and she'd already cheated death once. This was how it was supposed to be. Spike wouldn't let Willow bring her back and let The First happen. Faith would continue being a Slayer. Faith would help her friends, help keep Sunnydale safe. Buffy started for the portal, but Faith stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"You're not jumpin', Blondie," Faith whispered with a small smile.

"I need to. Dawn can't..."

Faith shook her head. "The kid's made from Slayer blood. Your Slayer blood. Those dreams we've been havin'? The Powers're givin' us a mystical loophole. Slayer blood for Slayer blood. You're supposed to continue on. You were always supposed to be the Slayer."

Buffy's eyes stung. "Faith, no. You can't." Even saying the words, Buffy could recognize the look in Faith's eyes: the haunted Slayer look. Being too tired.

"You gotta let me do this, B," Faith said, releasing her. They both braced themselves when the tower creaked again. "Let me be the hero just this once. I just wanna rest. And you've got a whole family waitin' for you. The pipsqueak, Spike, all the damn Scoobies—they need you. I figured this out a while back. No one needs me, 'cept for this one thing." Faith didn't have family and friends the way that Buffy did, not really. Spike had told Buffy that Slayers got burned out if they didn't have things to hold on to, things that made the fight worth it. Faith was ready to die. Buffy just didn't know how she'd missed it before this moment. "This is how it's supposed to be. I get it now.

Buffy's lips trembled. "We won't forget this. I promise."

Faith grabbed Buffy by the back of the neck and kissed her forehead. Buffy felt the tears beginning to escape her. Faith handed Buffy the hammer and ran for the edge of the platform, going flying off the side of the thing. A screw loosened from above Buffy, hitting her at on the head. The whole structure was starting to go down. Buffy, Scythe in one hand and troll hammer in the other, ran down the stairs, as fast as her legs would carry her. She was glad to find none of her friends (or anyone but an unconscious Ben and some unconscious minions) near the bottom of the structure. Buffy bolted for the entrance to the construction site. She didn't set a foot past the barrier before she ran into Dawn, the two of them in a tight, nearly painful, embrace, Buffy minding her weapons.

Buffy heard the tower creak its last behind her, falling into a massive pile of scraps.


	31. Chapter 31

_Dedicated to windbreaking, RAGAnne, and Rinso._

 _Thursday's chapter will conclude this story. There may still be one more surprise left for you guys. Then it'll be a few months until the last story of this trilogy starts getting posted. It'll give you plenty of time to wildly speculate! ;)_

Chapter 31

Rupert had taken the witches home, and Harris and Lady Vengeance waited with Faith for the authorities to come. Rupert had squabbled, briefly, with Buffy about who would take the lion's share of Faith's funeral costs and arrangements until the Scoobies finally demanded they split down the middle. With all settled between watcher and slayer, Spike, bloodied and bruised half to hell, drove the two Summers women home. Buffy helped Spike hobble into the kitchen. She returned to the front door of the house and he leaned on the counter as a mug of blood spun about in the microwave. When it dinged, Buffy returned to the kitchen doorway.

"Bit up to her beddy bye?" Spike asked. He crossed his arms over his chest, which made every muscle north of his waist burn. He winced.

Buffy closed the space between them. She'd taken quite a hit or two herself from Glory. Her neck was all bruised up and a streak of dried blood stained it. He didn't know what other damage hid under her jacket and what all. Spike couldn't say he was terribly upset that Ben had been crushed dead under the weight of the tower.

"Dawn passed out on the couch," Buffy said. "I don't want to wake her. She can get herself to bed if she feels like it." Buffy reached out a hand, her touch on his (almost definitely broken) ribs gentle. It still hurt like hell. "Can I help?"

Spike shook his head, then kissed Buffy softly on the brow. "Nothin' a lil blood and some kip won't fix, right? I'll meet you upstairs, hmm?" He made his way to the microwave and yanked out the mug.

"Sure." Buffy smirked, one eyebrow lifting. "Might even be a bubble bath waiting for you when you get up there, if you're lucky. One with my special soapy stuff, even."

"Then I'll make this quick," Spike said, smiling.

He watched his Slayer limp toward the staircase. Truth was, the girl needed as much of a relief as he did. Sure, they were both banged up physically. But the fact that Faith had had to sacrifice herself to save Buffy and Dawn was going to haunt them for a long, long time, especially when they thought they'd had it all figured out and in the bag. No one had hardly mentioned it. It was too fresh, still. Even thinking about it on his own caused an ache in Spike's heart, stronger than he was used to. He liked the Dark Slayer, sure, but... Maybe it was the idea that it easily could've been Buffy, flashbacks to the old timeline, that it could've been Dawn, even. Spike took a huge gulp of his beef blood.

Before it was all the way down his gullet, Spike was forced to lean over the (thankfully) empty sink, the blood projecting its way out of his system. His stomach gurgled in protest. Spike wiped his lips with the back of his hand. He lifted the mug to his nose, sniffing it. It smelled like... blood. Kinda flat, like soda gone stale, but not poison or anything. Maybe it went expired. Or maybe his body was just all kinds of screwed up. He'd been paralyzed before, and had his bouts of seriously buggered up here and there over the decades, but this was his first (well, second) time flying off of the side of a tower. That said, he wasn't much concerned with any physical ailments the last time. He couldn't remember the first time he'd had blood after, though he imagined the Niblet had forced some into his system during the daze Buffy's death had brought them.

At any rate, Spike shrugged and dumped what was left of it down the sink. No use in drinking blood that made him sick. Buffy or someone could just grab more in the morning.

XXXXX

Buffy had drawn up a honey scented bubble bath on the second floor. She'd stripped off her jacket, her boots, and her pants by the time Spike opened the door only long enough to slip inside the bathroom. He just blinked at her for a minute, and Buffy glanced down at her tank top and panties. Buffy slid over to Spike, smiling up at him.

"You all set?" Buffy didn't wait for his response. He must've taken off his duster down in the kitchen. She grabbed the bottom of his black t-shirt, rolling it up his torso gently and getting it over his head before tossing it to the floor.

Spike stroked back some of Buffy's hair, and Buffy nuzzled her cheek against his palm. Then Spike unbuckled himself and shifted off his pants. Buffy hopped over to the bath, aching all over her body, to turn off the faucet before the tub overflowed. She poked the water, which was perfectly hot. Glancing over her shoulder at Spike, her grin immediately melted into a frown when she saw him. His pale sculpted body was covered in gashes and bruises. She hadn't realized just how badly his body had taken a beating, and it was a little abnormal that he was still in such bad shape. His vamp healing totally should've kicked in by this point. She would've offered him some Slayer blood, but she didn't know that she was strong enough to do that right now. Maybe in the morning, if she was feeling better.

"You first," Buffy said.

Spike did as she said, stepping into the bubble bath. Buffy, meanwhile, lifted her shirt, tossed it, and shimmied off her panties. She looked herself over again. Some of the bruises from her fight with Glory showed along her torso, but she was already in better shape than when they'd left the construction site. Slayer healing still working: Check. She stepped into the bath with Spike, taking a seat between his legs. She felt his body twitch as she leaned back against his chest.

"Am I hurting you?" Buffy whispered, looking up behind her.

"Nothin' I can't handle, pet," Spike said, kissing her on the forehead just to prove his point. "Nice long soak'll do us some good."

"Mm," Buffy agreed. She closed her eyes and leaned back, her body softening against his, but she tried to shift herself to not put too much pressure on him. "The trick's gonna be not falling asleep in here."

Spike slouched as well. His chin rested on her shoulder, his foot grazing one of hers. "There're worse things," he muttered, his voice already sleepy.

"Says you," Buffy argued with a yawn. "Not like drowning kills vampires."

Spike wrapped his arms around her bare waist, holding tight. Buffy wrapped her hands around his forearms, stroking him with her thumbs. "I'll keep ya afloat, Slayer. Don't fret so much."

"This sucks," she mumbled. Spike felt so warm in this tub, warmer than he'd ever felt before, even when they'd taken showers together.

"Hmm?"

"I wanted to have the traditional 'we're still alive and kick ass' post-apocalypse ritual of sexy fun times."

Spike grinning against her ear, then nibbled the top of it. "Then we'll just have to rest up here, won't we, kitten?"

XXXXX

They'd spent what felt like forever in the tub, taking turns dozing off until the water got so cold that Buffy finally dragged herself out and Spike followed. They'd toweled off and, with a quick peek around the hall to make sure Dawn wouldn't be traumatized, tip-toed down to their room in nothing but towels. When Buffy lit a couple of candles, she noticed Spike was still just as messed up as he had been pre-soak, despite the fact that she'd healed about half of the way. She demanded he lay down on the bed. He abandoned his towel and then did as she ordered, hands propped behind his head as he watched Buffy hang her towel on the closet doorknob. She sprinted to their bed, straddling Spike's lap before leaning down to kiss him. He reached up and lost his fingers in Buffy's wet hair, their kiss slow and tired but deep and passionate.

Buffy couldn't help smiling against his lips, loving the taste of him. A pang of guilt and fear hit her gut when she thought back to the top of the tower, to the idea that she might never have gotten to know this again if it weren't for Faith's sacrifice. Faith's choice, she had to remind herself again as she straightened up and admired Spike. Faith wanted to be the one to do it, and the Powers had convinced her it was a good idea. Buffy ran her fingers along her husband's ribs, meaning to count but forgetting to.

"You're sure you're up for this?" Buffy asked him, locking her gaze on Spike's eyes. He always looked at her like she was amazing. Or crazy. But even when he thought she was crazy he had a touch of awe mixed in there, too. "If you're too tired, we've got plenty of time to..."

"Nothin' I'd rather be doin', love, than bein' close with you." Spike gripped a hand on the outside of each of her tanned thighs, his pale fingers making a pretty contrast. "My girl deserves a celebration and I sure as hell ain't gonna be the ponce that deprives her of it." Spike reached up, stroking some wet wavy hair away from Buffy's face. "I may be knackered 'til next Thursday, but hell if I'm gonna listen to my body's griping in this case."

Buffy placed her two hands on his chest. She lowered her split onto his length. Her heart must've been thudding a million miles a minute, because as he filled her up she could swear she felt a faint heartbeat coming from Spike's center. Must've been some kind of trick of her hand or something. Buffy leaned forward, her lips against Spike's ear.

"I love you, Spike," she whispered.

"Love you, Buffy. So much."

Buffy pulled back just a bit, laying her chest flat against his, and they kissed.

XXXXX

Spike's eyes shifted open and he was almost blinded by the white light. At first it was disorienting, and his inclination was to tense up and search his surroundings for clues—Initiative? Some hospital? Couldn't have been the Slayer's room...

When he sensed no immediate danger (when he sensed nothing but him and the light, really), he sat up and suddenly he was standing in place, though he was pretty sure that he was in some huge bloody cloud.

And that's when it occurred to him. What this was. Why it seemed as familiar as it did unpleasant. He was back in heaven, or what passed for heaven these days.

But it didn't make sense. His heaven was with Buffy and the Bit, the quiet moments they had earned after the big group fight scene. He couldn't be dead. He...

"Spike."

Spike spun around and, standing before him in a long white dress, was Joyce.

"Forgive me if I'm not throwin' a party, Joyce. But I imagine if we're in the same place, it doesn't mean anythin' good for me."

"You're only dreaming, Spike."

Spike took a deep breath. Joyce was right. He could smell the honey stuff the Slayer had bathed them in, and the sunshine of his wife. He was still with her. This was just a dream. Spike realized he was wearing the clothes he'd been in when they went off to face Glory. He grabbed a cigarette and lighter from his duster pocket and only recognized after lighting up that the lighter wasn't his but Faith's. He took a drag of the cig, eyes narrowed at Joyce. If he was dreamin' of her, dreamin' of heaven, that meant she'd be talking soon. Probably the Ponces That Be demanding more from him and Buffy.

"I'm the messenger," she explained. "Generally, once you're here you don't have obligations. But, well, I guess this is my way of getting involved in my girls' lives one last time." Joyce smiled, soft and maternal and it made the spot in Spike's chest ache anew with the loss of the eldest Summers. "You've done what was asked of you. Buffy is safe, and Willow won't tap into forbidden magics to bring her back. The First will not come for them."

"Not without casualties," Spike said, taking a sharp puff of his cigarette, remembering all the smokes he'd shared with Faith, the only partner in crime he'd had in this particular bad habit. Hell, the woman standing before him all angelic-like was a testament to Spike's inability to get everyone out on the other side of this Glory thing in one piece.

"You're too hard on yourself," Joyce said as though answering his thoughts. "The Powers have rewarded you."

"Buffy," Spike nodded. He stamped out the cig. "Bit." Spike chuckled and rolled his eyes. "The Scoobies, I s'pose. On a good day." The B Team were known to have a fun outing or two.

"You've fulfilled the prophecy, Spike." Joyce tilted her head, a mother's patience at the slow understanding of her child. "They've made you human."

Spike felt his whole body go numb in shock. "What?"

"You aren't a vampire anymore. You haven't been since Faith jumped into the portal instead of Buffy. In keeping her alive, you did your duty to the Powers."

Human. He could go out in the sunlight with Buffy. Could give her a normal life. No more blood. A family, the one she deserved...

She was the Slayer. There would always be blood. Buffy needed an equal who could fight at her side, who she didn't have to worry about protecting. Someone who could rip apart any git who came near Dawn will ill intent. He couldn't be the bitter pillock that Finn had been in the past timeline, couldn't be a burden inflicted on Buffy like that.

"No," Spike whispered.

Joyce raised her eyebrows the way she did pretty much constantly when looking at Dawn. "No?"

"No. Buffy said... Buffy said, when I offered to give up my soul to bring you back, that she needed all of me. She was talkin' the soul, but she needs the fighter, too. She needs someone who can be her equal, love to finances to takin' care of kid sis to Hellmouth duties. I can't be human and be as useful to her. I don't want it." Spike felt his throat tighten. "Please, Joyce," he said as he took a step toward her. "Make them take it back."

Joyce chewed on her lip, a very Buffy gesture, as she glanced to her left. All Spike saw was the blinding white light continuing on forever, but it seemed like Joyce heard someone talking to her. Joyce nodded at Spike; it was done. "You take care of those girls, Spike," she said, a hidden weight to her words, "and let them take care of you. Tell them I love them, that I've found peace. Faith and I both have."

When Spike woke next to Buffy, the candles were still burning in their room. He looked to the window, the moonlight streaming in. Spike jumped to his feet and pulled the blinds shut. Then he padded around the room, blowing out each candle. He hesitated in front of the last one and shifted into game face. Licking his fangs confirmed the transformation. Spike shook his head, the demon going back into hiding. He didn't know if it'd just been a dream, and he'd tell the Slayer about it in the morning either way and hope she didn't box his ears for makin' the wrong choice, but either way he was intact.

Spike leaned forward and blew out the final flame before slipping back into bed with Buffy and draping his arm around her thin but strong body. Buffy hummed, snuggling against him.


	32. Chapter 32

_This final chapter is dedicated to RedStalkingDeath, and with special thanks is dedicated to RAGAnne, Rinso, and Taste Like Special, my most dedicated readers/reviewers who have been so sweet and really encouraged me to go for it with this story._

 _All y'all who take the time to read Make the Clock Reverse and Counting Down From 7-3-0 are the bomb dot com._

Chapter 32

Buffy had not felt right for the month since they fought Glory. It'd taken Spike a couple of days to recover fully. All of Buffy's bruises and whatever had healed by the time Spike told Buffy about his crazy dream where her mother had claimed he was human and he'd turned it down. He cringed as he told her. Buffy's guess was that Spike was scared of her reaction. If it was real and not just crazy dream crap, he'd turned down their only chance at normal. But Buffy knew what Spike knew: they'd never have normal. What she wanted was him, and her sister, and her Scoobies, weird and vamp-y, witchy, former mystic key/vengeance demon-ness and all. The weird was part of them just as much as being the Slayer was a part of her, and she wouldn't have it any other way, not unless it was what they wanted for themselves.

Really, she was just tired and laggy and a little seasick sometimes minus the sea. Each of the Scoobies had pestered Buffy to go to the doctor. She'd told Giles Slayers don't get sick, not really, that even if she was it'd pass; she'd told Xander and Willow that it was probably just allergies; she'd told Anya she was just having major stress after-effects; and Tara that it'd might've just been a major lack of sun-age. It wasn't until Dawn and Spike cleaned out Buffy's closet and hid all of her clothing and shoes somewhere she'd "never bloody find it" that Buffy finally, begrudgingly, agreed to go to the hospital.

The three of them had spent hours in the waiting room. Buffy had hated hospitals before this year, but especially after this year, after Joyce and Ben and every other connection, it was torture. The doctor had taken lots of blood and made her pee in a jar and done a couple of reflex tests and whatever. Now the Summers sisters and Spike were in a room waiting on the doctor to move his butt and tell Buffy there was nothing wrong. Buffy sat on the edge of the examination table, her legs crossed, majorly needing to use the bathroom and wishing the doctor would light a fire under it and get in here. Spike was pacing on Buffy's left, huffing and puffing and being the worried Big Bad. Dawn, on Buffy's right, came to her sister's side, squeezing hands with her.

"We'll do this," Dawn whispered. "It'll be fine. I know it will."

Buffy drew Dawnie close, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pressing her cheek to her sister's. "Nothing knocks us down, right?" Buffy whispered.

"Sod it," Spike grumbled, thickening up his accent the way he did when he wanted to play up the bad boy vibe. It made Buffy's insides hum. And it sort of made her giggle, too, not that she'd ever tell Spike that. "I'm goin' and grabbin' him by the collar and draggin' his sorry arse..." Spike started charging for the door. Buffy grabbed him by the sleeve of his duster, yanking him toward her. Spike glanced down at her, the anger melting away from his eyes. They smiled at one another.

The door to the room opened, and the doctor came in, slamming it shut behind him. Buffy freed her hand from Spike's duster and her other from Dawn's warm grasp. "Miss Summers?" the doctor asked.

"Missus," Spike growled. He took a possessive step closer to Buffy. "I'm her husband," he elaborated.

Buffy twirled her pearl ring around her finger, needing to fidget.

"Yes, well." The doctor cleared his throat. "Mrs. Summers, it seems the results are conclusive."

"Is there a cure?" Dawn demanded. Her back straightened to emphasize her full height and her chin stuck out. "What does she need? Medication? Bed rest? Vitamins? Surgery? Don't worry about the money." Dawn shared a conspiratorial look with Spike, like the pair of them would take on the world for Buffy. Buffy felt her lip tremble. "Anything she needs," Dawnie continued, "you get her the best and we'll figure the rest out."

The doctor half-smiled, probably amused by the fifteen-year-old who he didn't realize could kick his ass while blindfolded. "No, it's not that bad." He turned his attention to Buffy, then Spike, then Buffy again. "In fact, it's not bad news at all. Mrs. Summers, I'm happy to inform you that you're pregnant."

"What?" Buffy, Spike, and Dawn said at once.

XXXXX

 _Here endeth the story... for now._

 _I was excited by the idea of giving Faith a clear redemption arc. I'm sad to see her go because I think she's fun and interesting, but she never really got the moment that Spike did in canon in "Chosen," so this story all worked toward that. Certain things felt so integral to the show and to Buffy's character (like losing her mother, which was a hard choice for me to make but it was all a matter of natural causes that Spike couldn't prevent) and I didn't want this to be a fix-it fic that fell flat. And, of course, it's been great getting to play with strengthening some of Buffy's relationships (with Dawn, for instance) at a time when, in canon, she felt herself starting to pull away and get worn out. Plus, ya know, getting to write things like a Spuffy wedding set on Buffy's birthday with a touch of dramatic interruption or Dawn training with Spike and Faith to kick ass (I liked getting to be more of a Scooby in late S6/early S7 and wanted to explore that more) or Scooby research where everyone is relatively friendly and joke-y or any Spike and Tara friendship moments (they're my favorites in case you couldn't tell) or Spike, Faith, Xander, and Clem playing pool at The Bronze has all been just lovely._

 _This trilogy has one more story left in it. It is going to be months before I start posting it. The goal is to get as much written as possible before I start posting, because once I start I prefer to post chapters often (at least 2-3 times a week, if not every day!). But now you know one of its main components: Thanks to Buffy and Spike's post-apocalypse fun times ritual and a Powers That Be wish-granting that lasted all of two hours, Buffy is pregnant with Spike's baby! Obviously, this paired with Spike and Buffy being married and Buffy not having died/been brought back from heaven and Willow not at (too much) risk of going dark and no active Warren to worry about... this next story is going to be one seriously off-canon S6 AU! But there may be an element or two that's familiar to you..._

 _But Ginger! What possible Big Bad could be at play here, what with the lack of Warren and Dark Willow and First Evil? Oh, there's a Big Bad a'comin' to Sunnydale, gentle readers, don't you worry. In fact, if you look in places like the post-Adam Slayer dream from Make the Clock Reverse, Drusilla's visit to Sunnydale in Counting Down From 7-3-0, and a key conversation or two in this fic, the Big Bad may come to light. Or you could just way until the next installment and see what happens, if that's more your cuppa._

 _In the meantime, thank you for reading. Bonus thank you for reviewing, favoriting, and following. I really hope you've enjoyed these past two stories and I'm excited to get this last one started. Now I've got some writing to do..._


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